


IN THE COMPANY OF FREAKS

by Hyperionova



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Adrian wants to kiss Jongin but he is nervousTM, Circus, Disabled Character, LITERALLY, M/M, Military, Romance, Silent pining, freaks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-04 19:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 55,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21203108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyperionova/pseuds/Hyperionova
Summary: Adrian, a righteous soldier who wants to do right by his king and country, unwittingly agrees to sneak out to a circus one night with his fellow soldiers. He goes there expecting fun and excitement, but all that he finds is a circus of freaks. It is an evening that will change his life forever because he unexpectedly falls in love with one of the freaks there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Story contains abuse, disparagement towards extraordinary people, homophobia, self-doubting, tiger maiming assholes.

# P R O L O G U E

Arovel, a vast strip of desert lain to waste between the warring countries, was always so dry, always so suffocating. It made way for not a single restful night. It was not so bad anymore. The men were starting to get used to its harsh grounds and arid air after having camped there for nearly a month.

Wars had always been ugly. Especially this one. The men left their women and children at home several moons ago, taking pride in serving their country, their king. Each one of them had said their farewells to their wives and lovers with a proud smile, chest pushed out, chin held high. They would return with victory, they had promised their families. They would return with an honour like no other.

Many of them were now dead.

Those who did survive, however, had to keep going until either they shared the same fate as their fallen comrades, or the war was won. Some nights, they believed that no one would return home. Their wives would be widowed, their children rendered fatherless. All the hope and pride they had had when they left for the war were rapidly diminishing. The honour and victory they had come chasing seemed farther away from their reach.

The quiet of the desert was often deafening. Not even the critters that crawled over the barren ground made a noise when the men were asleep.

“We should move out in two or three weeks,” said the captain one day. The soldiers could not agree more. They were tired of this place, in spite of growing used to its severity. Some of them whined about the lack of water, some the lack of women, others the lack of mead.

Adrian groused about none of those things. Sure, he had missed all of them. The clean water that coursed through his small town, the beautiful women who shared and warmed his bed some nights, and certainly the mead, which always managed to ease any sort of distress.

But as soon as he enlisted in the army, he had decided to leave them all behind until victory was his king’s. Like most of the men, he had not known the horrors of war when he signed up. Nevertheless, he was here now, and he was determined to see it through.

“There is a village nearby,” said one of the soldiers one surprisingly chilly night. “We could sneak out there.”

“Ty,” sighed Ryan, Tyrel’s older brother. “It’s a really small village. What do you want to do there?”

“There might be a tavern or something,” said Tyrel, scratching the back of his head. “We could get something to drink.”

“And how would you pay for the drink?” asked his brother with an arched brow.

Tyrel frowned. “We are soldiers, are we not? Should they not honour us by giving us free mead?”

Everyone else in the tent scoffed. “They do not care about what goes on with the war,” said Warren, shaking out the sand from his boots. “We are doing this voluntarily. Nobody forced us. Nobody is obligated to honour us.”

Tyrel fell back on his pallet with an exasperated grunt. “It has been so long since I had a woman’s mouth around my cock.”

“Don’t even talk about it,” said Cory. “I get horny just from hearing shit like that now. And there isn’t a single woman around me.”

Tyrel shot upright again. “There will be some in the village!” he exclaimed. “We don’t have to pay _them_, if they want to sleep with us.”

“Who in their right mind would want to sleep with you without getting paid, ugly?” scoffed Ryan.

“Come on, guys,” whined Tyrel. “We would sneak out when everyone else is asleep or not looking. And we won’t cause any trouble. Let’s just go there and have a look. I am bored out of my mind here!”

Adrian agreed with the bored part. All that he did day and night was polish his sword, and he was getting awfully tired of it. “I say we go,” he said, sheathing his whetted sword from where he sat on his pallet in the corner of the tent. Tyrel jumped up to his feet and hurried to Adrian’s side.

“This man gets me,” he said with a wide grin, tossing an arm around Adrian’s broad shoulders. He quickly withdrew it when Adrian pinned him with a sharp, black look. Clearing his throat, he then said, “Who else is coming?”

For a moment, everyone exchanged a cursory glance between one another. Then Warren said, “I guess there is no harm in having a look.” He was the youngest in the battalion. He was ambitious like every man who first joined the army. Though he had not given up, his youth and inexperience made it difficult for him to keep soldiering on. Adrian had a soft spot for the kid. In a brotherly way. He always looked out for Warren, kept an eye on his back for the boy on the battlefield.

“Maybe we will find some village girls to entertain us,” added Cory, lips quirking up into a smirk. “After all, we are virile men.”

Ryan groaned, rolling his eyes. “What if we get caught by the captain?”

“We will not,” said Tyrel. “But you can stay here if you want.”

Ryan scowled. “Like hell I am letting you have all the fun.”

“All right,” Cory whispered, leaning in. “We will leave as soon as the fires are out.”

Adrian rose to his feet and set his sword aside before he wandered out of the tent for some air. Stepping out, he stretched his arms over his head and popped a few joints on his neck and back. He then gazed in the direction of the village. It was not as nearby as Tyrel had made it sound. It would take about an hour to get there on foot.

As Adrian narrowed his eyes and squinted at the village, he saw a flux of colours reflecting against the dark canvas of the night sky. He could not tell if they were the doings of lanterns or banners. A faint, curious smile curled a corner of his lips. Something fun was going on the village. He hoped that they would make it there in time to witness whatever that was happening there.

* * *

“Let us all agree now,” said Ryan in a low voice as they slipped out of the tent they shared later in the night when the campfires were all put out and the other soldiers were in their own tents. “that if a situation arises where there aren’t sufficient women to satisfy us all, Adrian should be the big man and step down.”

Adrian scowled at the man. “I beg your pardon?”

“Ryan’s right,” said Cory. “Whenever we come across a woman, she immediately looks to you, you ginormous beast. And you’re too good-looking, so you are going to show no interest in them.”

Adrian flinched. He had not noticed that. He was one of the largest, burliest, tallest men among the soldiers. But he had never thought of himself as ‘good-looking’ before. He had never received such compliments in his life, so he was not sure how to react to that. Not that his friends were saying it as a compliment, anyway.

“So, why must I give in?” asked Adrian. “I don’t care for you guys enough to hand my women over to you. It is not my fault you are not what they want.”

Warren chuckled. The others made a face at Adrian. “It is the brotherhood code,” said Tyrel. “When one of us is better-looking than the others, he should let his mates get the easier girls because he can get whoever he wants.”

“What if I want them all?” asked Adrian, smirking.

“You know what?” said Cory. “I truly believe that you can satisfy them all at once, Adrian.”

Adrian laughed and gave Cory’s back a pat. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to steal all the ladies, _if_ we find any. I would really just settle for a tankard of good beer.”

The men moaned at the thought of a cold, dark beer as they trudged over the dry land, starting for the village down the hill, past the sandy terrains.

“Oh, what is going on down there?” Warren asked after a while when they were plenty of feet away from the encampment.

“Shh,” hushed Tyrel. “Do you all hear that?”

Once they were all quiet, the faint beat of drums and the melody of whistling flutes blanketed around them. They grinned at each other.

“There must be some kind of celebration in the village,” pointed out Ryan.

They were more determined than ever to pay the village a visit now. Even Adrian was mildly excited. They picked up the pace of their strides. At some point, Warren said that they should have left their swords at the tent because it would have made it easier to walk faster. Adrian told him that it was not wise for them to go anywhere without their weapons this close to the enemy’s borders.

“When I go home,” Cory said as they edged closer to the village. The sound of the thundering drums grew increasingly loud. “I would gladly take over my mother’s candy business.”

“I cannot wait to marry my sweetheart,” said Tyrel. “Well, when she finally accepts me.”

“She will never, so don’t get your hopes too high, little brother,” snorted Ryan.

All the men ever talked about when they had nothing else to talk about was what they would do when the war was over.

Adrian supposed he would start managing his father’s forge when he returned.

Born as a swordsmith’s son, he was well-trained in swordplay, which came to his advantage in battle. He just never thought that one day, he would be wielding a sword to take another man’s life. But that was what war was. And it had to be won by any means. None of them would get to go home until it had.

Adrian had a small family waiting for him back home. A very old father and a little sister, who needed to be married away soon. All of the coins that he earned from his partake in the war would be spent on her dowry. It was about time she started her own family.

Perhaps when Adrian got home, their father would have found her a husband. In their recent letters, they had told him that the quest for a decent man for his sister had begun. Adrian was pleased to read that. His father had also noted that Adrian himself should find a pretty wife who knew how to cook a good stew when he came back from the war. Adrian had chuckled to himself. He would not mind wedding a nice woman when he got back. After months of battles, he would not mind settling down for a peaceful, quiet life.

“What about you, Warren?” asked Cory, tossing his arm over the boy’s shoulders.

Warren blushed then, his cheeks crimsoning under the bright moonlight of the desert. “I would want to see my lover,” he muttered under his breath.

“A lover!” exclaimed Ryan. “I did not know you had a girl back home.”

Warren licked his lips and smiled, but he said nothing more.

Adrian looked down at his boots to check if the laces were tied. He then tucked his shirt into his trousers and ran a hand through his hair. If truth be told, he would not mind spending a couple of hours on a bed between a woman’s legs after a cool tankard of beer. It had been many moons since he had indulged in any of those things. He had not even acknowledged his need for them until they were only a few feet away from the outskirts of the village. The air was no longer as dry as it was at the encampment. It was still quite sultry, but it was more breathable.

* * *

# C H A P T E R O N E

Adrian had been right. They were coloured lanterns that were floating in the air, tethered to the top of a huge, striped tent. The village was bigger up close. It might even pass for a small town. There were brick houses from street to street. The sound of excited children broke the silence of the night. Adrian was surprised that the village was still bustling this late in the evening.

“I wonder what’s all the ruckus is about,” said Cory as he climbed over the fence bordering the village. Everyone else followed. The streets were nearly empty as they ambled along them. Most of the houses were dark. No lights. No one was in.

Then Tyrel gasped sharply, pointing ahead. “It’s a circus!” he yapped, looking to the banner hanging on a nearby post.

Adrian squinted his eyes to read what was written on the banner. **THE COMPANY OF FREAKS: A MOVING CIRCUS.**

His interest instantly peaked. A circus of freaks? What could that possibly mean?

“We should go there!” declared Ryan. “That’s where everyone must be right now.”

“That’s where all the girls must be,” corrected Cory. “I haven’t been to a circus before.”

“Me neither,” said Warren.

“Neither have I,” added Adrian. He had never had the privilege of going to one. He was from a remote town much similar to this one. But it was full of grit and dirt. The people there did not care for such splashy pastimes. Men toiled day and night while women looked after their children at home.

Feeling as excited like a bunch of young schoolboys, Adrian and the others started for the circus tent in the middle of the village. On their way, they strutted past a few giggling villagers, who were discussing how amazing the circus was. Adrian was more thrilled than ever to visit it now.

Some stopped to stare at them when they walked past. They could not help but gawk at the soldiers’ height and massive build, as well as the swords they carried. Then realizing that the men were soldiers from the nearby encampment, they simply bowed their heads and walked away.

“Did you see that? I could totally get used to that reverence,” said Ryan, puffing his chest out as a smirk formed on his lips.

Adrian was surprisingly pleased to see the villagers look at him with regard. He never cared for such an attention before. But tonight, he felt good. It had been a long time since he had been away from the grittiness of the military encampment.

“Forgive me.” An old man stopped them in the middle of the street. “Are you soldiers from the nearby camp?”

Tyrel stood with his chest puffed out. “Yes, we are, sir,” he said proudly. “Just came to see what the commotion was all about down here.”

“Oh, my,” said the old man, bowing his head. “Long live the king. We are very grateful for your service, young men. Might we offer you something?”

Everyone exchanged a glance. “We were hoping to find something to drink tonight,” said Adrian.

“Of course!” the villager exclaimed. “My son-in-law runs the local alehouse. If you go there, I’m sure he would be glad to compensate your services to our country with some good ale.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” said Cory. “We shall head there right away.”

“I can show you the way,” said the old man.

When they arrived at the alehouse, it was not at all what Adrian had expected it to be. He had been in countless taverns, inns and alehouses before. But this was nothing but a small shack with a couple of benches that were already occupied by a bunch of drawling men. They immediately rose from the benches when they saw Adrian and the others approach.

“Trent,” the old man called the barkeep, who was standing behind a counter under the shack. “These men are from the army and are looking for some good ale.”

The other man, Trent, gasped. “Soldiers!”

He hurried around the counter and hastily dusted the benches with a rag before beckoning to the soldiers.

“Please,” he said. “Have a seat. I will put some tankards in your hands forthwith.”

“This isn’t half bad,” muttered Ryan as he plumped unceremoniously on the bench. Taking his own seat, Adrian glanced to the village men staring at him, almost gaping, as they whispered to each other.

“Everyone is looking at us,” Warren pointed out. “I feel like a Dromann performer.”

“I don’t mind the attention, if I’m being honest,” admitted Tyrel.

“Me neither,” said Cory.

The ale was not terrible when Adrian chugged it down. It was too light and watered down for his taste. It was definitely not going to get him there. But he was grateful for it nonetheless after weeks of drinking filthy, polluted water.

“Do you not have anything stronger?” Cory asked the barkeep at one point.

“It is the strongest ale we have,” said the barkeep, frowning. “I suppose big, strong men like you would love a dark beer better.”

“We do,” muttered Ryan.

Adrian knocked back the rest of his drink and looked toward the circus tent. He could not wait to see what it was like. What wonders might await him in there? It was rather ridiculous that a soldier who had seen numerous bloody battles was this excited over a circus.

“What’s in there?” he asked Trent, rubbing his bearded jaw, nodding toward the tent.

“It’s the circus,” said the barkeep. “There’s a lot of marvellous and wondrous acts in there. I was quite impressed when I visited it earlier. They will be here all week and the coming week.”

“What sort of acts?” asked Adrian.

“You can see for yourself. It is full of freaks and creatures you would have never seen before.”

“Freaks and creatures?” asked Warren. “Like animals?”

“And people,” replied the barkeep. “But I suspect it would be nothing compared to the magnificence you honourable men witness on the battlefield.”

This was what civilians believed wars to be like. Magnificent and honourable. Adrian had believed it too before he was in one and experienced it first-hand.

They downed another round of ale before they thanked the barkeep and his father-in-law and started for the circus tent.

Even though the night was growing rapidly old, a massive crowd of people still thronged the entrance of the circus, waiting to enter the tent.

“Ugh,” Ryan groaned. “The line is too long, and we have to buy tickets to go in.”

“Follow my lead,” said Cory as he jostled past the crowd. At first, some of the people turned to glare at them, but they quickly stepped aside and made way for the soldiers when they noticed the swords hanging to their hips and the uniforms they were clad in.

“Oh, look at them,” Adrian heard one of the young women standing in the line mutter to her friend. “So handsome.”

She flushed red when Adrian looked in her way with a faint smile. A few other ladies in the crowd blushed at them as well, giggling under their breaths.

“This was a good idea,” Ryan muttered to the others. “It has been a long while since we had been away from the army.”

“Now, you think it is a good idea, huh,” Tyrel snorted, smirking at his brother.

“We just have to remember to go back before sunup,” said Adrian. “So, try not to get too distracted.”

“Gentlemen,” the man giving out the tickets in return for two copper coins said when he saw Adrian and the rest approaching the entrance. “It is a pleasure to have you in The Company of Freaks tonight.”

He grinned wide, adjusting the garish red hat he wore. His shirt also had frills and laces, which Adrian grimaced at.

“Any chance we can get in without paying for a ticket?” asked Cory, rubbing the back of his neck.

The other man pinned them with a twisted expression. “The Ringmaster would not be very happy about that,” he admitted.

“Well, we are not very happy about putting our necks on the line for the peace you lot get to enjoy while we’re out there drinking piss water every other day,” Ryan said in a calm voice, though with a sharp edge to his tone. “But you don’t see us grousing about it, do you?”

The man gulped, eyes dropping to the sword on whose hilt Adrian’s hand was resting on. “This way, soldiers.” He drew the slit of the tent open.

Grinning at each other, the men sauntered into the tent. It was much more crowded than Adrian had expected it to be. Past the thronging people, he glanced at the paintings on the sides.

“Look at those,” he muttered to Warren, eyes narrowing at the subjects painted on the individual canvases. Pushing past the bustling crowd, he walked over to the posters to have a better look.

He fixed his eyes on the first poster and gave it a once-over.

**THE TWO-TOED TOP**

There was a man clad in a ridiculous outfit standing on top of a giant ball, balancing on nothing but his two big toes. They were the only toes he had on his feet. Impressive. Adrian would like to see that.

**THE BEASTLY BELLE**

At first glance, Adrian thought that it was just a furry animal. But as he looked closer, he realized that the animal was a woman covered in a thick coat of fur. She almost looked like a bear wearing a gown. Now, that could not be real, could it?

**THE RINGMASTER**

It was a man donning a top hat and a red suit. He had his arms stretched out and a proud smile etched on his moustached face. In one hand, he held a whip and in the other, the chain leash of the tiger on which one of his booted feet was resting on. The tiger looked as though it were a rug for the man to step on. He must be the one who commanded the circus.

**THE INSENSIBLE IMPS**

It was a painting of a group of dwarfish, bearded men doing all sorts of clumsy things. One of them was trying to drop a mallet on his own head while another was trying to lick the puddle of water on the ground. Adrian cringed at the poster. It did not seem like something he would be amused by.

**THE BLUSHING BRIDES**

It was a picture of two beautiful, brown-haired women dressed as a bride. They looked identical and were wearing a similar look of shock and exasperation on their faces. As Adrian looked at where they were glaring at, he noticed the flesh that had them joined. They were conjoined twins, both struggling to separate from each other so that they could get to their own husbands for their wedding night. And the more they struggled to pull away from each other, the more their wedding gowns were torn open. Who could possibly find this act entertaining, Adrian wondered. Perverted debauches perhaps.

“Look at this,” Warren said, pointing to one of the posters. Giving the other posters in between a brief look, Adrian walked over to the one that had Warren intrigued. “We must see this one.”

**THE SILENT SIBYL**

That sounded serene enough for a circus of freaks.

“The Silent Sibyl,” Adrian read off the poster before looking down to the painting of a boy, whose head was hung low. He was sitting on the floor of a massive cage, legs folded on a side, clad in a simple white tunic and nothing more. He looked… soft, even though Adrian was unable to see his face. “What’s he supposed to do?”

“I would love to find out,” said Warren. “Out of them all, this one seems the most mysterious, doesn’t it?”

Adrian stared at the painting of the boy a little longer than he should. He felt his heartbeat waver strangely. How could this boy be a _freak_? Adrian was as intrigued as Warren now. Were his beauty and serenity nothing but a deceit?

“I want to see the Blushing Brides first,” said Ryan with a giddy grin. “Let’s go!”

They tried to push through the crowd and get to the acts before it is too late. Adrian reminded them that they should get back fairly soon so that they could also catch a few winks before the morning call. But he was not going to leave without seeing the Silent Sibyl first.

* * *

There were constant cheers, claps, and ‘oohs and ahs’ everywhere they went. Adrian and the others, however, were more confused and appalled more than amused and entertained. It was not what they had come looking for. They were soldiers, yes. All they understood was the horror of war and surviving it. But this was… This was something else. The very nature of the circus seemed to be for the purpose of debasing the performers for the entertainment of the circusgoers. Adrian was not even sure if they could be called that. Performers. Most of them just idly stood in a ring or a cage for the people to stare at them with either fascination or aversion. He knew he would be awfully uncomfortable if he were in their shoes, put to display as an entertainment for all these people.

“What’s the cage for, I wonder,” said Warren as he ambled slowly beside Adrian, wearing a similar frown. “Do you think it’s to keep them there or to keep us from touching them?”

“Probably the latter,” said Adrian. That made him realize that these performers were the same as a prop or something one would put in a museum. They were not supposed to be touched.

He briefly stopped by the cage in which the Two-Toed Top was balancing quite impressively on a striped ball. Adrian looked for a harness of some sort that was making this incredible act possible, but he found none that was visible to his naked eye. He wanted to offer the performer a compliment, but the dead expression on the man’s face discouraged him. He did not look like he was interested in interacting with the onlookers. In fact, he was far too focused on his balance.

Adrian slowly moved onto the next cage. More children were circling it, pointing and gasping at the monkeys springing from one pole to another, using the vines hanging from the ceiling of the cage.

It was odd, how both animals and humans were placed in the same type of cages. The dehumanization of the performers twisted Adrian’s stomach into knots. It was not as though he were not used to having to dehumanize soldiers on the battlefield. They were meant to be seen as nothing but a weapon used by the enemies, and they needed to be eradicated in order for him to survive. But in here, in these cages, he saw no weapon, no enemy. These were just… people.

He moved past the cage of leaping chimps and started for the ring behind which a group of dwarfs was performing, rather loudly, if he might add. The villagers who were witnessing the performance were laughing at the way the dwarfs were tripping over their own feet, dropping pails of water on each other. It did not seem like something that would amuse Adrian, but he was still wondering why this act was given to the dwarfs.

He glanced around the area, looking for the Silent Sibyl before he was promptly distracted by Tyrel.

“The Ringmaster is about to come on,” said Tyrel, pointing to the centre of the ring. Once they had found a less crowded corner to stand in, Adrian curiously awaited the Ringmaster.

The drumrolls quaked the entire tent while the blaring sound of the trumpets momentarily deafened all those stood around the ring, looking for the Ringmaster with bated breath.

Then as the curtains open, a man stepped into the ring with his chest puffed out and arms held open. He was clad in heavy clothing; a red suit with frilly white sleeves, a top hat, a pair of blue boots that looked comically large, and a red-and-blue striped shirtfront under his jacket. He wore a cocky grin beneath his thick sharply styled moustache. He appeared to be a man in his mid-forties. The crowd cheered for him with a thunderous round of applause.

Adrian kept his hands at his sides, eyeing the Ringmaster dubiously. He was not one for cynicism, but something about the man immediately did not sit right with Adrian. Perhaps it was the overbearing arrogance that oozed from every one of the dramatic steps he took, advancing towards the crowd of spectators.

The crowd’s cheers abruptly sharpened into gasps as a massive tiger strutted out of the curtains, following the Ringmaster’s steps. It was almost prowling with an annoyed look on its face. And around its neck, there was a thick metal collar, whose leash was in the Ringmaster’s hand. Adrian smiled then. He had never seen a real tiger before. And it was everything he was informed it would be. Its lush, thick coat of orange and black, the sharp fangs that bared themselves when it snarled lightly, the claws that peeked from its fat paws, the long swaying tail, everything about it took Adrian’s breath away. He wondered just how amazing it would be to command such a majestic, powerful creature. But then he frowned.

The beast belonged in the wild. It did not deserve to be leashed and paraded around like a show pony. And its resentment was clear in its aggrieved golden eyes.

When it faltered in its steps, the Ringmaster gave its leash a rough tug, yanking it forward to keep up. The tiger looked as though it might growl at the man, but it did not.

Taking his position in the middle of the ring then, the Ringmaster waved at the audience as the drums and trumpets died.

“Welcome!” he exclaimed in a roaring voice. The crowd clapped once more.

Adrian was more focused on the tiger that took its seat at the Ringmaster’s side. It looked so annoyed that it was almost scowling at the crowd as though it were planning on making every last one of them its next meal.

“Welcome to The Company of Freaks!” announced the Ringmaster cheerfully. “I hope you have enjoyed the acts around you thus far, but it is all about to get a lot better! First of all, we have our talented acrobats, who will be putting on a top-notch performance just for you.”

He waved to the men and women standing on top of the tall poles in the ring. Adrian was amazed by how they could stand all the way up there without soiling their pants. He doubted that he had ever stood on something as tall as that. If he had, he certainly would not want to do it again. He would prefer the bloody battlefield to the terrifying height any day.

Except that he did not mean that. Nothing was worse than wars.

“Next, you will be entertained by a rib-tickling act performed by the talented Louval twins, the Blushing Brides!” declared the Ringmaster before he went on to list a few more acts. The tiger at his side looked bored now.

“He seems awesome,” remarked Cory.

“Isn’t Ringmaster just a ceremonial position?” said Warren.

“Well, whatever his job description is,” said Ryan. “he seems pretty good at it.”

Adrian waited for the man to say something about the Silent Sibyl. He would hate to go back to the encampment without figuring out what was so bizarre and anomalous about the boy he had seen in the painting.

But much to his disappointment, the Ringmaster said nothing about the Silent Sibyl as he ended his announcements with a dramatic bow. “Let the late evening show begin!”

Adrian stayed for the acrobats’ performance. Surprisingly enough, he was thoroughly entertained by the flying acrobats, who swung from pole to pole on ropes. They arrayed such grace and balance that Adrian could barely take his eyes off them. He lurched a forward with his jaw falling slack when one of the swinging women let go off her rope, flinging toward the man who was clinging to a rope with his legs. Adrian only breathed again when the guy caught her without missing her arms.

“That was fantastic!” cried Warren like an excited child. Adrian clapped his hands together for the acrobats, grinning from ear to ear. What was so freaky about this, he wondered. Perhaps the courage to take such a risk. Perhaps their talent for precision. Not every ordinary man could execute something so dangerous so flawlessly without a hint of fear or hesitation in his face.

No matter the number of battles he had already seen, Adrian was still covered in cold sweat every time he armoured up for a new battle. He was not sure if it were the fear of losing _his_ life on the battlefield, or the fear of watching his fellow soldiers fall at the cost of their lives and being unable to reach out to them in order to help them in time. It had happened many times before. And Adrian had spent countless sleepless nights ruminating over his fallen comrades.

But seeing these acrobats attempt at something so fascinating yet fraught with danger made him realize that even those who were not at war had their own ways of living life dangerously on the edge.

“Oh, check your left,” said Cory at one point, jerking his chin past Adrian’s shoulder. Everyone followed his direction and looked to the two girls standing the midst of the loud, amazed crowd. They were looking their way.

“And score,” muttered Ryan, flashing the two women a toothy grin. “And they are not even that terrible-looking.”

“The redhead looks quite decent,” said Adrian, smirking in her way. She blushed and averted her gaze for a moment. Her long fiery hair was braided neatly, her tight bodice highlighting her beautiful breasts. Adrian swallowed hard. It had been so long since he had been with a woman that he really would not mind approaching her with a proposition.

But then Ryan and Cory shoved past him, starting toward the ladies.

“You’re not going?” asked Tyrel. “That redhead is practically undressing you with her eyes.”

Adrian sighed. “It’s all right,” he said, turning his attention back to the acrobats. “They need it more than I do.”

“I want to go check out some of the other displays,” said Warren once he got slightly bored of the acrobats.

“I’ll go with you,” said Adrian.

“Wait,” rasped Tyrel. “Aren’t you going to stay for the Blushing Brides? I heard they get almost completely naked toward the end of the act!”

“I’m good,” said Warren, cheeks crimsoning a little. He quickly turned away and pushed past the crowd.

Adrian shrugged at Tyrel before he went after the boy. “You know,” he said once he had caught up to the younger soldier. “It could have been quite interesting.”

“I doubt it,” Warren murmured.

Adrian let it go. The boy was clearly disconcerted by the idea of the performance. And so was Adrian. Everything about the circus made him uncomfortable. Some of them were entertaining, he would not lie. But they all left a weird aftertaste in his mouth. Like dandelion wine.

As they wandered back to the area where the other acts were displayed, Warren accidentally bumped into a girl, making her drop her kerchief. He quickly picked up and handed it back to her.

“Oh, I’m very sorry,” he said, flustered.

She flushed red and smiled. “That’s quite all right. You are a soldier?”

Warren scratched the back of his head. “Yes. We camp nearby. Uphill.”

“Of course,” she said. “I knew there was a military encampment up there. My mother told me to never go too near it.”

Warren looked like he was not sure of what to say next. “Uh… She was probably right. It is no place for a pretty lass like you.”

Almost immediately, the girl’s cheeks pinked with embarrassment and flattery. She then looked up at Adrian next. Her attention was too fleeting. Clearly, she was more enticed by the younger man, who was closer to her age.

“My name is Rosa,” she said, fidgeting with the kerchief in her hands. She then coyly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You look a little young to be a soldier.”

“I… I am young,” replied the boy. “I suppose.”

The girl bit her smiling lip.

Warren scratched the back of his head, as though he were confused about why they were sharing this conversation.

“Will you be staying here for long?” she then inquired.

“Not really,” said Warren. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh.”

Adrian smiled to himself. “I’ll leave you two alone to break the ice, then.”

Warren frowned up at him. “What? No. I’m coming along.” He bowed his head to the girl. “Once again, I’m sorry.”

The girl looked puzzled as Warren hurried away from her, taking hold of Adrian’s arm.

“What are you doing?” asked Adrian. “She was totally coming onto you.”

Warren blinked. “No, she was not.”

Adrian snorted. “Did you not see the way she was blushing when you gave back her kerchief?”

Warren pulled a face. “It does not mean anything. I had bumped into her.”

“You said she is a pretty lass.”

“I did not mean anything by that either,” Warren groaned. “I would not flirt with just anybody. I told you. I have a… lover back home.”

“So does a lot of our men. Most men certainly would not pass up an opportunity like Rosa after months of forced celibacy.”

Warren arched an eyebrow at Adrian. “So, you would have bedded her even if you had someone waiting for you back home?”

Adrian shook his head with a smirk. “I am not most men.”

That made Warren grin. “Which is why I look up to you.”

Adrian stopped in his tracks to stare at the boy. “You… do?”

“Of course,” said Warren. “And like you, I don’t want to be like _most men_.”

Adrian sighed, throwing an arm over the younger boy’s shoulders. “I can respect that. Your sweetheart back home is one lucky girl to have found someone as steadfast as you.”

Warren’s smile broadened. “I’d like to think so, too. But I am the lucky one.”

“Do you plan on marrying her when you return?”

Warren frowned then. “I don’t know,” he muttered, looking away as though he were worried about meeting Adrian’s eyes.

“You don’t know?”

Warren bit his lower lip. “There are… some complications.”

Adrian wondered what those complications might be. Religion? Caste? Money? Whatever it was, Warren did not look like he wanted to talk about it. So, Adrian let it slide.

“If you need any help,” Adrian said. “I’m always there for you, all right?”

Warren smiled up at him, then. “Thanks.” He then sighed. “Besides, who knows if I would even make it back.”

Adrian clasped his hand around the boy’s elbow. “Do not speak that way,” he spat through his teeth. “The only thing that will keep men like us going is hope. When you lose that, you lose everything.”

Warren nodded. “Right. I’m sorry. It’s just that… sometimes I wonder.”

“Well, stop wondering about those things. Just put your faith in yourself and your grip on your sword and shield. Faith gets you a long way, boy.”

Warren’s lips quirked into an amused grin then.

“What?” Adrian asked.

“Nothing,” muttered Warren. “It’s just that… you are pretty wise for a thirty-six-year-old man.”

“I’m thirty-six. Some would say that I’m ancient.”

Warren chuckled. “Yeah, I guess.”

As they wandered around the circus, looking at more of the strange acts and performers in the cages and smaller rings, they spotted Ryan and Cory sneaking out of the tent with the two women, who were giggling drunkenly.

“Will they be back before we would have to leave?” asked Warren.

“I don’t think they would need that long after all these months,” said Adrian, simpering.

“Oh!” Warren gasped all of a sudden, pointing to a darker corner of the tent. There was a curtain there, concealing a large box, along with a signboard saying, **THE SILENT SIBYL.**

Adrian’s interest peaked at once. Finally.

“Do you think he is in there?” he asked, already approaching the curtain.

“Who?” asked Warren.

“The boy from the poster.”

“I sure do hope so!”

There was a woman guarding the entrance of the box. “You must wait your turn, lads,” she said, stopping them when they tried to get past the curtain. She directed them toward the line. It was not too long, but it was long enough to make Adrian groan.

He sighed impatiently. “How long will it take?”

“We must get back to our encampment soon,” Warren told the guarding woman then. “We are soldiers, you see.”

“I don’t care who you are,” said the woman, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you want to consult the freak, then you have to get in line.”

_Consult the freak_? What did that even mean?

Grumbling under his breath, Adrian joined the queue.

The couple in front of them turned to them with a surprised look. “You are soldiers,” the man said.

“Yeah,” replied Warren.

“How is the war going?” asked the villager, eyes widening. “Who is winning?”

Adrian and Warren exchanged a glance. “We are,” said Adrian before Warren could blurt anything out. “We are doing everything we can to bring our country to its victory.”

“Oh, that is such great news!” exclaimed the wife.

“We are always so grateful for your service,” said the man. “Please, take our place.”

“That is quite all right,” said Adrian. “We would not want to impose.”

“Nonsense,” said the man. “It is the least we could do for everything you are doing.”

Adrian bowed his head and stepped before the couple. “I will never get used to cutting in line.”

“Me neither,” said Warren, laughing quietly.

The young man standing in front of them turned to them with a similar shock. After a flattering conversation, he too insisted that Adrian and Warren take his place.

Soon, they were at the front of the line, facing the woman at the entrance. She pinned them with an annoyed look.

“You have five minutes each,” she said. “In and out. You are not allowed to touch the boy. And you shall not talk to him directly.”

It was getting stranger and stranger, and Adrian was more intrigued than ever. With his heart hammering against his chest with excitement, he entered the box, pushing past the curtain as soon as three women had made their way out, all wearing the same kind of perplexment and astonishment on their faces.

“How is that possible?” one of them gasped in a whisper.

“Magic,” the other woman said. “Dark magic.”

“It is so creepy,” the last one commented, shuddering visibly. “But I don’t think it is magic. It must be some clever way of reading people.”

“Oh yeah?” scoffed the second woman. “How did the freak know you were fell and scratched your knee when you were twelve on the eve of Winter Solstice, Polle?”

“I only scratched my knee because you pushed me!”

The box was dark when Adrian stepped into it. He blinked a few times to let his vision adjust before he glanced to the faint flickering candleflame in the corner. The whole ambience of the space left Adrian with an odd, chilly feeling. A small shiver ran down his spine when he looked to the metal cage standing in the middle of the box.

Warren at his side was holding his breath as well as they slowly made their way toward the cage. Adrian’s eyes were unblinking as he surveyed the inhabitant of the cage, seated pitifully on the floor. The boy kept his head hung low just like in the poster, and he was also clad in the fade beige tunic. As Adrian’s gaze slid down to the boy’s bared legs, he noticed the metal fetter around one of the boy’s ankles.

Edging closer to the cage, Adrian tried to look at the boy’s face past the dark, silky hair that was curtaining his forehead and eyes.

“Welcome,” said the short, plump man who was perched on a stool close to the cage. “What have you come to find out about yourselves today, gentlemen?”

Adrian looked at the other man with a baffled look. “What does that mean?” he asked.

“The Silent Sibyl can answer any question you have,” he said. “Your past, your present, your future. He can see them all. He can read your soul.”

Warren coughed at Adrian’s side. “Now, that cannot possibly be true,” he commented. “Only Gods can do such a thing.”

“Well,” said the man, rubbing his hands together. “Why don’t you give it a try?” He beckoned the boy sitting in the cage.

Adrian returned his attention back to the boy, and he was unable to look away again. A thick lump formed in his throat, making it difficult for him to breathe. He took another step closer to the cage.

Before the boy, four stacks of tarot cards were laid out on the floor.

“All right,” said Warren. “How old am I?”

The man tapped the cage with the wooden rod he was holding in his hand. Then slowly, the boy started to raise his head.

Adrian felt his heartbeat quicken as the boy who looked up at Warren first before his green eyes turned to Adrian. Under his lowered lashes, he returned Adrian’s steady gaze with a tenderness that choked Adrian. The supple cheeks, the rosy full lips, the gentle eyes, the youthful serenity… everything about the boy turned the rest of the world off around Adrian for a moment. All sounds faded into the background like a distant, pointless echo.

Although in his lifetime, Adrian had found himself attracted to several boys, even if he leaned mostly toward women, he had never been so drawn to someone so fast. He was not sure if it were just attraction. The boy in the cage had simply snatched his breath away with a single gaze. It was as though the boy was a wonder of the universe that left all those who saw him aghast.

No one and nothing had ever made his knees weak the way the boy’s gaze did in that moment.

Adrian only blinked when he saw the boy blink as well before his eyes instantly changed colour. They went from a sharp green to a cool colour of hazel. For a moment, Adrian thought that his own eyes were playing tricks on him.

But then Warren gasped near him. “His eyes changed colour!”

“They change based on a person’s soul,” said the man guarding the cage.

“That is a cool trick,” muttered Warren. The boy looked at Adrian piteously then, lips parting slightly as though he wanted to say something.

But then with his cheeks flushing dark, he lowered his head. The short man rapped the rails of the cage with the rod again.

“Answer this young man’s question,” spat the man, forcing the boy to look at him. “How old is he?”

The boy stared at the man’s mouth, paying close attention to the way his lips moved as though he were studying every little movement.

Then, he brought a hand forth and let his fingers hover over the tarot cards. Adrian held his breath again as he watched the boy’s slender fingers dance gracefully over the cards.

Picking two cards out at last, he turned and placed them on the floor.

“He says twenty,” said the short man.

Warren gasped once again, clasping a hand over his mouth. “That is… correct.”

The other man grinned proudly. “Go ahead. Ask him another one. A tough one this time.”

Warren looked to Adrian momentarily. The boy looked at Warren, his eyes green once more. Unbelievable.

Clearing his throat, Warren then said, “Okay. What is my mother’s name?”

The boy picked out another tarot card.

“He says it is Karla,” said the assisting man, tossing the rod in his hand.

Warren looked horrified now. “That… That’s also correct.”

“Do not waste all of your time on asking stupid questions,” said the man. “Anything you want to know about your future?”

“Can he really foretell the future?” rasped Warren.

“Only time will tell.”

“What am I most afraid of?” Warren decided to ask.

Once deciding on a set of three cards, the boy placed it on the floor for the assisting man to read. Adrian wondered why the boy was not answering anything by himself.

“You are most afraid of… living the truth,” said the man, arching his brows in confusion. “Whatever that means.”

Warren worried his lower lip for a moment. Then dropping to his knees, he faced the boy with a distressed expression. “Will I… go home to my lover once this war is won?”

Adrian tore his gaze away from the boy then and fixed it on Warren. As the boy started to shuffle through the tarot cards, Adrian grabbed hold of Warren’s shirt by the tunic and yanked him back up to his feet.

“That’s enough,” he spat at the younger soldier. “That isn’t something you want answered, trust me.”

“But—”

Adrian cut him off with a stern glare.

Warren frowned. “You’re… right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

When Adrian glanced back to the boy in the cage, he met those hazel-brown eyes once more.

“Anything you would like to know?” the short man asked Adrian.

After a long minute of silence, Adrian went down to one of his knees, his eyes piercing into the boy’s. He had never met someone as enchanting and captivating as this boy. He was like a ray of warmth on the coldest wintry day. He was like a breath of air for a drowning man. What was this beautiful creature?

“Just one,” Adrian muttered in a whisper without breaking their locked gazes. The boy looked a little confounded and dazed himself as his eyes bored into Adrian’s, as though they were searching for the very essence of Adrian’s soul.

Was it even possible for a man as iron-willed and strong-minded as Adrian to want to risk it all for someone he had just met? It was as though the boy wielded some sort of power to break all of Adrian’s walls and crumble his determination.

“What is your name?” Adrian questioned softly, fisting his hands that were tempted to reach past the rails of the cage and touch the boy’s beautiful, serene face.

The boy’s lips parted, a soft breathy gasp escaping them. He then quickly turned his face away. Not even his tenderly tan skin could hide the red that spread across his cheeks.

“His name is Jongin,” said the guarding man. “But what do you need that information for?”

_Jongin_…

Beautiful.

“Why won’t you say anything?” Adrian asked, but the boy did not look up at him again, his fingers curling around the hem of his flimsy tunic.

“Your time is up,” the man then spat, almost bringing a hand to Adrian’s shoulder, but he stopped when Adrian turned to him with a sharp scowl. Gulping, the man took a step back, dropping his hand back to his side. “You should leave now.”

As much as Adrian wanted to catch the boy’s magical gaze one last time, he knew Jongin was not going to look at him again. Frowning with disappointment, Adrian rose back to his full height.

As he and Warren were ushered out of the box, Adrian glanced back at the boy over his shoulder, wondering if they would ever meet again.

“You really wanted to know nothing?” asked Warren as they wended their way out of there.

Adrian was still a little lost, his mind cast back to the boy in the cage, his heart beating with an erratic rhythm.

“I am in awe,” Warren added, sounding slightly out of breath. “How did he know my mother’s name? Do you think he is a mind-reader? Or perhaps he is a soothsayer. But the way his eyes changed colour! How is that possible? Maybe he really is a magical creature.”

Adrian was not one to believe in all that magical bunkum. If it existed, he was sure mortal men would not be slicing each other’s throat on the battlefield. Men did not possess such powers.

But there was something about the boy… Jongin.

Something mystical. Something numinous almost. He was no ordinary person. He was also no freak. He certainly did not belong in a cage of any sort. But then again, Adrian doubted that the cage was to hold him in. It was probably there to keep the others from getting too close to him. If he really were gifted, then imagine the sort of power he would be presenting greedy, dangerous kings with. They would be able to foresee everything.

Adrian then recalled the shackles around the boy’s ankle. It had looked tight and painful, and the chain was too short for the boy to be able to stand on his feet. Adrian’s chest tightened at the thought of the boy not being able to move freely.

“It was dark in there,” Adrian murmured. “It was probably just the reflection of the candlelight that made it seem as though his eyes were changing colours.”

Warren scratched his head. “You think?”

Adrian heaved a deep breath, looking back to the box one last time. Something inside him turned and tugged at his heartstrings. He wanted to know more about the boy. He had never been so curious before tonight. Before meeting that strange, enchanting creature.

“Come on,” he sighed disappointedly at last. “We could rally up the rest and head back to the camp.”

The night had been a lot more than what Adrian had thought it would be. All in all, it had been the strangest night of his life, and he had had many strange nights before.

_I hope to see you again,_ he thought to himself as he walked away.

* * *

When Ryan and Cory finally joined the rest outside the circus tent, they were wearing a similar look of complacency.

“Did any of you get lucky?” asked Ryan, sounding more at peace than he had ever been, his eyes leaden with exhaustion and sleep.

Adrian liked to consider himself lucky for having met the most enticing being. The others seemed like they also had a good time. But it was time to head back to their horrid, stagnant reality.

“No,” said Tyrel, folding his arms over his chest. “But it seemed like you two had fun with those chesty broads.”

“We certainly did,” said Cory with a sly smirk.

On the way back up the hill, Adrian was quiet, lost in his own train of thoughts. Even thinking about the boy, the Silent Sibyl, felt surreal. He was worried that if he went to sleep and woke up at sunup, it would all only seem like a dream. He had to see the boy again. He had to.

When they snuck back into the camp and slinked into the tent they shared, Adrian removed his boots and sword belt before he collapsed on his pallet.

“That was quite amazing,” Tyrel murmured in the dark.

Ryan and Cory had already fallen asleep. Warren hummed in a reply, rapidly drifting off as well.

Adrian lay awake for a while, an arm tucked under his head as he stared at the tent above him. Everything about the boy was now etched into his mind. And heart.

He clutched at his shirt by his chest and sank his teeth into his lower lip. He wondered what the boy thought of him and why his eyes changed to a calming, earthy tone of brown when he looked at Adrian for the first time. As much as he wanted to believe otherwise, he knew what he had seen. It was illogical, and he certainly did not believe in magic, but then again, nothing about the boy had seemed ordinary. He was something else. Something unearthly.

Adrian knew that he was not some boy in his youth to be excited by something like this. He had to be more responsible. He knew his duties. He knew that he could not afford to be reckless. In spite of it all, he did want to risk it all if it meant that he would be able to see the boy one more time.

What was this instant, unsparing power the creature had over him? Why had it not affected Warren? He briefly entertained the idea of the boy having bewitched him if he really were magical. Then shaking his head, he clenched his eyes shut and willed himself to fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

# C H A P T E R T W O

Who was that man? Why had he looked at him so forlornly? Why had his soul turned all blue with a strong want when his eyes had met his own? It was all that Jongin could read from the man’s eyes. His soul was pristine but conflicted. There was a thick shell surrounding it, one that was almost impenetrable. He had never encountered one that was so difficult to decipher. He had failed to even figure out the man’s name.

He was no mind-reader, as a lot of people who consulted him believed. He could not read one’s mind, only their soul and everything it had endured in the past and held the power to face in the future. The weaker one’s soul was, the easier it was for him to study it. He could tell almost everything about a soul. Its age, its capabilities, its strengths, its weaknesses, its past, its present, its future, its ties to other souls and everything that falls in between. If he were a mind-reader, he would able to read one’s thoughts. He could not do that. He was a sibyl and a lot more.

But most of all, he was a captive.

For the rest of the night, after the strange man’s visit, he was unable to keep his mind on. He had even picked out the wrong tarot cards a couple of times, much to the keeper’s dismay. He knew that he would have to pay for his clumsy errors later, and it was not going to be very pleasant. The Ringmaster did not tolerate slips. Everything in his circus had to be perfect. Which was ironic as it was a circus full of the most imperfect creatures, who were pushed aside by everyone, regarding them as abhorrent and perverse. They were all called… _freaks. _Even thinking of the punishment the Ringmaster would mete out to him later made his stomach ache with dread.

The cage and the fetter around his ankle did not leave him much room to move around. He stayed in the seated position with his legs folded under him for a long time until his body began to hurt. The Ringmaster valued aesthetics more than anything. He wanted to present his freaks in a way that would encaptivate the circusgoers. Each act, each talent had a gimmick of their own. Jongin’s was this front of innocence caught in the midst of an eldritch ambience. People who walked into the box to meet Jongin were instantly pervaded by an eerie feeling. They left the box believing that the Silent Sibyl was an occult being with real gifts and that he should be hidden away from the rest of the world at all costs.

Except that it was not just a front. Jongin believed himself to be an innocent caught in a web of horror that he did not know how to free himself of.

He was glad when the time to close the circus for a few hours of respite before it would open again in the morning finally came.

The keeper unlocked the padlock of the cage and clanged the baton against the cage. Jongin did not hear the sound it made, but the entire cage rattled around him and under him. He knew that it was not a very pleasant gesture. He knelt up and waited for the keeper to unfasten the chain of his fetter from the rails of the cage.

Then taking hold of the chain, he ordered Jongin to get up.

His legs were wobbly as usual when he stood up. He frowned at his shackled ankle. Although he had been shackled for nearly six years now, he could never get used to being leashed like this. A very long time ago, he used to run through the wilderness as the crisp air of the woods filled his lungs and the fresh grass pricked the soles of his bare feet. He would play with the wild rabbits and the trees all day long. He would only return home when he smelled his mother’s delicious corn and cabbage pottage wafting from the small but cosy hut they used to live in. Oh, what he would not give to be able to be that free again… Now, they were all just a distant memory.

It was not as though he had not tried to get away from here. He had tried to reason with the Ringmaster, pleading him to let him go. But each time, he was not heard. No one would listen to him. How could they when he could not speak? He had no voice that could be heard.

The Ringmaster knew, however, that Jongin was not happy here. No one would be happy when they were kept in cages, locked up for most of the days, called a freak, tormented for the entertainment of the people who sneer and laugh at them.

After the first time he had tried to express his grievance, the Ringmaster had shackled him and kept him guarded and locked up at all times. He had said that the Silent Sibyl act was far too profitable for the circus to let it die. It was then when Jongin realized that he was never getting away from here. He had made a mistake leaving home when he had turned fifteen. He had foolishly believed that the outside world would offer him many great opportunities, countless wondrous adventures, endless possibilities that would give him joy. And all that he had to do to attain all that was get out of his overly protective parents’ clasp. They never wanted him to see things. They feared for him too much. They feared the humans who could do nasty things to their precious, disabled son. While he was not given the ability to speak or hear, he had other gifts. Gifts his parents were afraid of, especially the sort of attention they could attract if others found out. They always believed that Jongin’s talent for augury would hurt him somehow. Jongin had believed otherwise. He was young and foolish. He had thought that he could make a change in the world.

He did not want to stay hidden away forever. He wanted to see the world. He wanted to stand on his own two feet and make something of himself. Instead, he was in chains and cages, spending every single night in tears. As the days passed by, he grew more and more hopeless. He would die in these cages one day. And he wished for the day to come sooner.

The village was smaller than most of the towns they usually put a show in. There were not as many people as there usually would be. But the company was exhausted from having travelled for weeks, and so they had to stop for a recuperation in this village.

As Jongin followed the keeper to his wagon behind the tent, he thought of the man again. The man with the strange soul. The man whose only question to a sibyl had been, _‘what is your name?’_

Nobody who had come for a reading had ever wanted to know what Jongin’s name was. Everyone always spent down to the last second of the brief time they had focusing on questions they had about themselves. They would waste most of it on confirming that Jongin was not a fraudster and his divinations were not just a fluke or an assumption. For the first time, someone had been curious about Jongin. And it was not in a mystified or creeped out way. The man had looked… enchanted and beguiled. He had asked for Jongin’s name because he simply wanted to know it. Not because he wanted to figure out how Jongin could augur the things that he could never have known like everyone who came to see him did.

Climbing into his wagon, Jongin looked back at the keeper with a pleading look. He was hungry. He had not eaten all evening. As he sat down on his flimsy bedding in the wagon, the keeper told him to wait while he fetched him something to eat. He locked the wagon door before he meandered away.

Jongin sat in the dark, hugging his knees to his chest. His head spun lightly while his stomach grumbled. He could really use some food and sleep.

The wagon was small and dark. It held only a pallet, some threadbare blankets that could barely keep him warm during the colder nights, a small garderobe, a wash basin, and a small trunk of clothes along with a pair of shears he occasionally used to trim his hair.

While he waited for the keeper to return with some food, he cast his mind back to the strange man who had visited him earlier. Though Jongin had encountered many, many people over the years of serving at the circus, he had not met someone like that. It was not to say that there was something extraordinary about that man apart from the fact that his soul was unreadable. He was quite tall and incredibly broad-shouldered. His massive, burly body was built with thick, solid muscles that stretched the sleeves of his shirt. He sported a closely cropped beard and a dark hair whose length reached slightly past the nape of his neck. He was also bearing a longsword with him. The unlaced top of his shirt had bared a gnarly scar on the right side of his chest and a deep sternum dusted with dark hairs. Jongin had tried to take note as much as he could about the man’s appearance as he could not look any deeper into the man’s soul.

His companion was a soldier. The boy named Warren. So, he must also be a soldier. A soldier from the nearby encampment, Jongin deduced. There was nothing special about the man’s companion. He was like every other person who came to Jongin, seeking answers they did not need. His soul was hungry for another, lusting after someone it loved. It had its secrets. It had its wounds. Jongin did not particularly like taking a peek at others’ secrets, but it was something he did uncontrollably ever since he was a child. Perhaps that was why he was denied a voice, so that he would never be able to spill another person’s secrets.

The tarot cards were the only means of communication he had for the time being as he was also an illiterate who did not know how to read or write. He could count, though. His parents were illiterates as well. They were too afraid to send Jongin to a proper preceptor where he could have learnt. He used sign languages instead to communicate with his parents in the past. It was also how he conversed with most of the people at the circus, though they never really made the effort to talk to him. He was an outcast among outcasts.

No one wanted to be his friend because it was simply too much effort, and everyone always feared the secrets Jongin might discover if they interacted with him. After finding out the many horrid truths about human beings, Jongin was not sure that he wanted to get close to any of them. Every single person he had come across since the day he had run away from had been cruel to him one way or the other.

He saw something moving through the barred window in the door of the wagon before he smelled the distinguishable scent of the striped fur. His heart leaped with excitement at once when he spotted the tip of two twitching tiger ears. And then he saw a pair of paws reaching up to the window and holding onto its edge.

_Baashere._

The tiger peeked through the window like he always liked to whenever he was walked past Jongin’s wagon. Jongin saw his pale red nose next before he looked to the glinting yellow eyes. Baashere looked for him in the wagon, sniffing hard.

Springing up to his feet, Jongin hurried over to the door, ignoring the weight of the fetter on his ankle. He could never stop grinning whenever Baashere came to see him.

The tiger was standing on his hindlegs, reaching all the way up to the window so that he could see Jongin.

It was the only time Jongin’s heart was ever light. Sliding a hand through the gap between the bars of the window, Jongin let the tiger sniff his hand first before he placed it on the majestic beast’s nose. He loved the way Baashere’s eyes fell heavy and drowsy as he stroked the fur, almost scratching it. Baashere had the thickest fur. Jongin loved running his fingers through it and watch the tiger’s ears quiver in delight.

He then would give Jongin’s palm gentle licks, careful not to let his rough tongue scrape the skin off Jongin’s hand. Like Jongin, he too was leashed, though his collar looked a lot less comfortable than Jongin’s ankle fetter.

Jongin did not have to read Baashere’s soul to know that it was the kindest. It was strange, how an animal designed to prey on the weak and hunt to kill was more compassionate than humans.

Jongin’s heart sank when Baashere was forced to withdraw as the keeper came back with half a loaf of stale bread in one hand and a jug of water in the other.

“What is it doing here?” the keeper asked one of the Ringmaster’s assistants, who was holding onto Baashere’s leash.

“I’m about to take him to his cage,” said the assistant.

“Get him out of here.” He was about to scowl at the tiger, but as Baashere bared his sharp teeth menacingly and snarled with a meaningful threat, the keeper stepped away.

The Ringmaster’s assistant gave Baashere’s leash a harsh tug. “Come away now.”

Jongin retreated into his wagon with a sorrowful disappointment as he watched Baashere being hauled away. The keeper then placed the bread and water on the window before he too wandered away.

Picking up the bread, Jongin sat back down on the floor and sank a small bite into the tough bread. He doubted that if he had not been so hungry and exhausted, he would have been able to stomach something as dry and sour as this. Food was not always this bad, but tonight had been tiring for everyone. He supposed no one would want to waste another second of their resting time to get him something decent to eat. Jongin was not sure he wanted to make any fuss about it either. He ate and drank until his stomach was no longer hungry before he reclined on his cold pallet. Grabbing the blankets, he hugged them around him.

Then came the tears as though on cue. He shut his eyes and silently cried himself to sleep as he did most nights in the wagon.

* * *

“Focus, Vanstone,” spat Ryan when Adrian slipped for the third time. “What has gotten into you today?”

Adrian huffed heavily, his chest heaving as he gripped his sword tightly once again. Wiping the sweat beads collected on his forehead, he held the sword up and brandished it lightly before his opponent.

“I am focused,” he grunted through his grit teeth.

Ryan blinked at him, frowning. “No, you’re not.” Without a warning, he lunged at Adrian. As their blades clanged thunderously, Adrian pressed forward with all the might he had in his body until Ryan was staggering backwards.

He was not wrong. Adrian was unable to find his focus today. His mind was scattered all over the place. No. Actually, his mind was back at the circus they had snuck out to two days ago. He would have believed that it had all been just a dream if he had not caught the stupid, giddy look on Ryan and Cory’s faces the next morning. And since they had regained their energy, they spent the entire day rehashing everything that the two women had done for them the other night.

It had been a couple of days, and Adrian still could not manage to forget about the boy in the cage. The Silent Sibyl. Jongin…

At one point, Cory had even suggested that they do it again, that they should go back to the village. Tyrel and the others had advised him against it. It would be pushing their luck. If they got caught, they would be severely reprimanded. Besides, too much of getting away from reality to appease their desires could break their spirit to remain in the army. While Adrian agreed with all that, he had a hard time denying the fact that he desperately wanted to see the boy again.

His nights and sleeps were constantly invaded by the thoughts and images of the boy. He had never been the kind of man to brood over someone else, especially someone he had just met. But perhaps it was because he had never met someone as alluring as the boy in the cage.

“Told you,” Ryan rasped when he managed to disarm Adrian. “You are distracted.”

Adrian groaned and picked up the sword from the ground. It was not always when Ryan got to have the last laugh. But today, Adrian was distracted. “I need some water.”

Ryan pinned him with a disappointed look as Adrian strode away, clenching his jaw without an explanation. As much as Adrian would like to chalk it up to exhaustion or something else, he knew that his mind was all scattered because of his fixation on the boy.

As he made his way toward the water barrels behind the captain’s tent, he noticed the little whispers that circled him. He arched an eyebrow at the fellow soldiers who were grinning at him meaningfully.

Adrian almost asked what the sheepish grins were for. But then he was halted in his tracks as he bumped into an armoured soldier.

“Captain,” he gasped, straightening his shoulders at once.

“Vanstone,” said Gavin, his eyebrows furrowed in a permanent scowl. Adrian had never seen the man smile. He was always so serious. He supposed having the fate of the country resting upon one’s shoulders would do that to a man.

“Were you… looking for me?” asked Adrian, realizing that the captain was staring at him with his hands at his back.

“As a matter of fact, I was,” said the captain grouchily.

Adrian swallowed. Had he been discovered? Did the captain find out about his and his friends’ little adventure to the village two nights ago?

“In my tent,” Gavin then ordered. “Now.”

Adrian glanced back at the other soldiers who were training and sparring around the camp before he followed the captain into the tent.

“Did you need me to do something for you?”

Gavin leaned over the table on which maps were spread out on. Somehow, he looked a lot older than when Adrian had seen him for the first time when he first joined the army. That was about a couple of years ago.

“My second-in-command has been delegated with an assignment,” said the captain in a monotonous voice. He straightened up and met Adrian with a pair of weathered eyes. “He might be gone for a while.”

“How long?” asked Adrian, unsure of why Gavin was sharing this information with him.

“For six months at least.”

Adrian blinked. “Do you have a substitute to relieve him?” He did not think it wise to tackle the next imminent and inevitable battle with the enemy without a lieutenant.

“I think I do,” said Gavin, crossing his arms over his chest. “Adrian Vanstone, I have seen such great promise within you over the months you have served in the army. On the battleground, you are formidable. You are a great swordsman, and an even better strategist. You have a keen eye for the art of war. I’d like to think that you harbour the potential to do just as well at generalship, if not better.”

Adrian stayed mum for a moment, gawking at the captain, wondering if it were a joke. “Are you… teasing?”

Gavin scowled. “I never tease.”

Adrian cleared his throat. His heart pounded a little. “Captain, I am… flattered. And honoured. But I am only a simple soldier.”

“Do you want to remain a simple soldier forever? Because I believe you have what it takes to lead on the frontline.”

Adrian’s face crumpled with conflict. He placed his hands on the table. “I had not joined the army to stay here forever.”

“You will be an interim lieutenant for the ongoing war,” said the captain. “Once it is all over and we’ve returned, you can decide for yourself whether or not you want to remain in the service as a lieutenant. You could even be promoted to captainship when my time in the army is at its end.”

Adrian straightened up and scratched his bearded jaw. It was an incredibly attractive offer. He would be fighting on the frontline, he would be an officer. There would be a higher pay, too. The position promised a lot of great opportunities, but at the same time, he would have a lot more responsibilities than he did now.

“Can I have the week to think about it?” he asked Gavin.

The captain gave him a curt nod of his head. “I suggest that you do not pass up on an opportunity like this, Vanstone.”

“I’m not sure I am a leader, Captain.”

“You won’t know unless you try. I see it in you. But I am not going to stand here and beg you. If you don’t want it, I know plenty of good soldiers out there who do.”

Adrian bowed his head. As he took his leave and walked out of the tent, he rubbed his temples worriedly. He did not know the first thing about being a lieutenant. How could he possibly lead the entire army if it came down to it?

“Well done, Adrian,” a soldier told him with a congratulatory smile when he wandered out of the tent.

“We know you would be the right man for the job,” said another.

Adrian frowned at them and the others who were staring at him. News did travel fast in the encampment.

“Is it true?!” cried Tyrel as he shoved past the others. Cory, Ryan and Warren showed up shortly after. “You are going to be the second-in-command? You are getting promoted?!”

Adrian drew a deep breath. “I have not accepted the offer,” he said.

Cory made a face at him. “Have you gone bonkers?!” he spat at Adrian. “Why would you not accept it?!”

“Is it because you are afraid you would be on the frontline?” asked Tyrel.

“As if he would be afraid of something like that,” Ryan scoffed. “But seriously, did you really refuse?”

“I haven’t refused,” Adrian muttered as he strode past them. He did not need them breathing down his neck right now.

“You should take it, Adrian!” yapped Cory as he hurried after him. “You have what it takes.”

Adrian believed that he had what it took to be a lieutenant, too. But was it what he wanted? Like most men here, he just wanted the war to end and go home. He was not ready to assume a duty that would change his entire perspective on his life and its future.

“Adrian, are you out of your mind?” asked Tyrel, hurrying after Adrian. “Do you know what an amazing proposition this is? Most of us would kill to become the lieutenant of the king’s army! But the captain wants you.”

Adrian stopped and turned back to glare at Tyrel and the others. “Exactly. He asked _me_. So, I get to decide whether I want to take him up on it or not. Now, quit dogging me around.”

As he spun around and stomped away, no one followed him again.

Reaching the latrine tent, he quickly tore the sweat-soaked shirt from his body and bent over the basin. He then cupped some water before splashing it onto his face. Rising back up, he gripped the edge of the basin with both hands and took a few steady breaths.

“Are you all right?” he heard a soft voice say.

Looking over to Warren who entered the tent with his hands in the pockets of his trousers, Adrian sighed heavily. “It is a big… responsibility.”

“It is,” said Warren. “But I know you will do great if you want to take it.”

Adrian carded his fingers through the dry strands of his hair. “I just don’t know if I… want this. It is a lot of hard work. And right now, I just want this war to end so that I can go home. So, that we can all go home.”

“Then maybe you can help,” said Warren. “Maybe you would make a difference if you become the second-in-command.”

Adrian was not sure how much of a difference he could make in the war between two countries. “I always thought of myself as a follower. Never a leader.”

“That’s strange,” said the boy with a gentle smile. Sometimes Adrian forgot how young he was to be caught in all this horror. “Because I have always thought of you more as the latter. I look up to you, Adrian. You are like a big brother I wish I had.”

“Are you sure ‘uncle’ would not be more appropriate?” Adrian scoffed.

“You are not that old,” Warren chuckled. “But… I hope you do consider the offer. You are the best soldier we have. I am always left astounded every time I see you on the battlefield. And you always look out for everyone. It is only understandable that your accomplishments, compassion for your fellow soldiers and excellent skillset get rewarded. You stand out. It is okay to take pride in it.”

Adrian let out a breathy laugh. “I had never heard so many compliments about myself all in one day.”

“So, are you going to take it?” asked Warren.

Adrian rubbed his forehead and threw his shirt over a shoulder. “I still need to think about it. It is a big decision.”

“Of course. Whatever you decide, I’m behind it, Adrian.”

“Thanks, kiddo.”

* * *

“Do you think the circus is still there?” Adrian asked later that night as he sat in the tent, sharpening his sword with a whetstone.

All heads turned to him at once. He had not said anything to anyone except Warren since the morning after the news of his potential promotion. He could tell that the men were not happy with his blatant refusal. It was a great honour, and Adrian had turned it down. Or at least he had not accepted it immediately, which most of these men would have.

“I suppose?” said Tyrel, putting down the tattered book he was reading again for the nth time. “The barkeep from the alehouse said that it would be there for two weeks, did he not?”

“Why do you ask?” asked Cory.

Adrian set the sword aside and rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t any of you want to go back there again?”

They stared at him for a long moment. Adrian chided himself, realizing that he should not have said anything.

“You… want to go back to the… circus?” muttered Warren. “You liked it?”

“Well, not really,” said Adrian. “I was just wondering if any of you wanted to see it again.”

“I would definitely want to see those pretty ladies again,” said Ryan. “But I don’t want to get caught. We ought to put that night in the win column and forget all about it.”

That was the problem. Adrian could not forget about it.

“I would like to see the Blushing Brides,” Cory sighed. “I had missed it the last time.”

“You were too busy fucking that broad’s throat,” spat Tyrel. “I did not get the chance to see the Silent Sibyl. I wish I had gone to see that one instead. Warren says it was mind-blowing.”

Warren had not been able to shut up about his experience with the Silent Sibyl. It certainly did not help Adrian keep his mind away from Jongin.

“Oh, yes!” gasped Warren. “If we went back there, I would definitely want to see him again. It was… creepy. I would prepare better questions this time.”

“I call bullshit on the whole fortune-telling crap,” spat Ryan. “It is all just a bunch of mumbo-jumbos. There is always a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything.”

“I can prove it!” said Warren. “He knew my mother’s name! Even you guys don’t know my mother’s name.”

“Might have been a lucky guess,” said Cory with a shrug. Warren frowned.

“He is telling the truth,” Adrian then said. “There was… something about that boy. Something curious. He was definitely not ordinary.”

“Well, it was a circus for _freaks_,” said Cory.

Adrian was not sure why his heart ached at that. He did not like thinking of that boy, those gentle eyes, that helpless face as something freakish.

“Wait a second,” Ryan said, sitting up on his pallet, looking to Adrian. “You don’t mean to tell me that _you_ of all people believe in that nonsense.”

Adrian shrugged. “I saw it with my own eyes, didn’t I?”

Ryan broke into a laughter. “Okay, now, we really have to go back there. Just to see the Silent Sibyl or whatever. I am telling you that he is a total quack. And you two are such fools to have believed it.”

“You believed in the other acts,” said Warren.

“That’s because they were not pretending to be an all-knowing, magical entity,” scoffed Ryan. He grabbed his boots. “Come on, then. Let me prove it to you that there is no such thing as a sibyl.”

“I’m in,” said Cory.

Adrian stood up as well. He knew what he had seen the other day. But now that he had heard Ryan out, he started to doubt it as well. It did seem like a ridiculous thing to believe.

“He is real,” said Warren, though he was also pulling his boots on. “He never could have known my mother’s name.”

“I will prove it to you,” spat Ryan. “Shall we make it more interesting by agreeing on a friendly wager?”

Warren rose to his feet and faced Ryan with a hard glower. “Fine. If I am right, then you must wash my clothes and dry them for the next four weeks.”

“You are on,” agreed Ryan. “And if I can show you that the Silent Sibyl is all just an act, then you do mine.”

Warren nodded his head.

Adrian stayed out of their bets. He just wanted to see the boy again.

* * *

It had been slightly harder to sneak away from the encampment tonight since quite a bit of soldiers were still up, singing into the night around the campfires.

When they had finally managed to slip away without being seen, Tyrel turned to Warren curiously and asked, “What else did you ask the fortune teller?”

“I’m not sure if you could call him a fortune teller,” muttered Warren as they trudged over the thick pads of sand. “But I did not get to ask much. Well, I did ask him one more question.”

His gaze flitted to Adrian then.

“And?” asked Tyrel.

Warren pursed his lips for a moment, lowering his head. “I figured it was not worth it.”

“What was the question?” asked Cory.

“I… wanted to know if we would win this war and if I would go home,” said Warren in a low voice.

Ryan’s expression hardened at that. “And the mystical crystal gazer told you something?” he spat through his teeth. His exasperation toward the sibyl grew tenfold.

“Adrian stopped me before I could have my answer,” replied the boy.

“Good,” said Ryan, glancing to Adrian. “At least one of you was on the right mind.”

“Why would you want to know that, Warren?” asked Cory. “Whether that sibyl is the real deal or not, do you think you would have been able to handle if he had given you bad news?”

Warren dropped his head.

“It’s all right,” Adrian interrupted. “He just wanted to know if it will come to an end. We have all wondered that, surely.”

“Did you really think that psychic would have been able to predict the outcome of the war?” Ryan scoffed. “Wow. I am looking forward to meeting this little prophet now more than ever.”

“All the name-calling is not necessary, Ryan,” said Adrian. “If we want to believe that he is real, that is up to us.”

“Sure.” Ryan shrugged. “But I would still love to suck it to you all and prove your butts wrong.”

There was a significantly smaller crowd of circusgoers when they arrived at the circus tent in the village. But there was still a line at the entrance.

“I am not sure they are going to let us in for free a second time,” said Tyrel. “Do we have any coins on us?”

“Maybe we can sneak in,” suggested Cory. “Ryan and I saw some entryways at the back the other night.”

“Lead the way, then.”

The others followed Cory around the tent, actively avoiding attracting any attention to themselves. It was not easy, however, with their massive builds and shiny swords.

“There are two scouts on the watch,” said Warren, jerking his chin toward the brightly uniformed men guarding the perimeter of the circus.

Adrian was not usually a rulebreaker, but somehow, he had broken quite a few rules in the past couple of days. He strutted forward to the scouts, despite his friends hissing behind him to stay put, and gave the scouts a salute with two fingers.

The scouts looked at him confusedly. One of the stepped forward and said, “This is not the entrance, sir.”

“I am aware,” replied Adrian before he grabbed both the scouts’ necks at the same time. He did not clutch too hard them, careful not to break any bones, as he slammed the back of the men’s heads against the pole behind them. Instantly, they crumbled to the ground, falling unconscious.

“Where did you learn that?” Tyrel gasped, hurtling over to his side.

“Just get out, go to a few new places, speak to a few new people, and you will learn all sorts of new skills,” said Adrian with a complacent smirk. “That I learned from a common riffraff.”

“Impressive.”

“Come on,” grated Cory, lifting the tent so that they could slip in.

Once inside, they hurriedly fused into the crowd before anyone could notice them. They stuck close to each other, Warren guiding them toward the corner of the tent where the Silent Sibyl’s box was.

In order to not to draw any attention to them, they slid behind the line for the Silent Sibyl.

Warren looked a little more excited than the others, even though Adrian’s heart was thundering in his throat. “You want to ask him something?” Adrian asked the boy.

Warren nodded his head, his cheeks crimsoning with embarrassment. “Maybe… something in private.” Noticing Adrian’s furrowing brows, he quickly added, “Don’t worry. I will not ask him anything about the war.”

“Sometimes, it’s best if you don’t know what your future has in store for you, kiddo,” Adrian said, giving Warren’s shoulder a light squeeze.

“But if I could change things if I knew?” muttered Warren, only for Adrian to hear.

“The future is always changeable,” said Adrian. “But is it really worth it to lose your living days to dreading about your death day?”

Warren’s face paled. He clenched his shirt by the chest and sadly murmured, “It does not have to be so ominous, does it? My future might not look so grim.”

“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to find that out right now. But if you want to ask something about the people you care about, I will not stop you.”

Warren paused to consider what Adrian told him.

“What are you two thinking about?” Ryan asked Cory and Tyrel annoyedly when he found them both brooding over something on their own.

“Just about what I want to ask the sibyl,” said Tyrel. That earned him a hard slap on the back of his head from his cynical brother. “Ow! What was that for?!”

“We are not here for a reading!” Ryan hissed at them.

“But—”

“Shh,” Cory shushed them, nodding his head toward the Ringmaster coming their way. Adrian’s eyes narrowed at the man, who strutted with the kind of conceit that could be a man’s downfall. And at his side was the breath-taking tiger, stalking with a different kind of confidence, although it was still leashed.

It turned its head, nose twitching as it inhaled the air, glancing over to Adrian and the others. Its predatory eyes sharpened, zeroing in on Adrian. For a moment, Adrian thought that the tiger might pounce on him or do something even worse. But the tiger only held his gaze for a few painstaking seconds before it turned and walked away.

Adrian breathed again.

“Imagine having a tiger for a pet,” muttered Tyrel.

“I cannot relate,” replied Adrian, sighing.

“Not even dogs like me,” added Tyrel.

When their turn finally came as they reached the front of the line, the lady at the entrance fixed them with a look of surprise.

“All five of you?” she asked, arching her bushy brow.

“Yeah,” said Ryan.

“You have three minutes each,” she said, scowling.

“We had five minutes each the last time,” said Warren.

She did not budge. “Fifteen minutes. Then out.”

Adrian wondered if he should have come here on his own. He would have had some time alone with the boy that way. God, why did he even want some time alone with him…

He tried to calm his pounding heart as he followed the others into the box. His eyes immediately shot to the cage, searching for the boy.

It was exactly where he found him, seated on the floor, piteously looking at the piles of tarot cards before him.

“Welcome, uh, gentlemen,” said the man guarding the cage and assisting the sibyl’s reading. “Which one of you would like to go first? Ask whatever you want.”

Adrian did not take his gaze away from the boy. Eventually, Jongin brought his head up and looked at the group of men in the room. His widening eyes changed colours rapidly as they flitted from one person to another. His face paled at once. And then he looked to Adrian. His bluish-purple eyes darkened into a light shade of brown as they met Adrian’s. The corners of his pretty lips curled into a very faint smile that vanished as soon as Ryan stepped forward to the cage.

As though frightened, Jongin crawled back a little, face struck with horror. He was… afraid of Ryan.

“I will begin,” said Ryan, grinning sinisterly down at the boy. “Tell me. Do you know my name?”

The boy studied Ryan’s lips intently for a moment before he nodded his head. With trembling fingers, he picked out two cards from the stacks and held them open.

“He says it is Ryan Marlon Lawson,” said the cage keeper.

Ryan’s arrogance faltered from his face then, his eyes blinking with shock. But he quickly recovered and tightened his jaw, not wanting anyone to notice his surprise.

“Who are you?” Ryan asked, turning to the short man guarding the cage.

“I am the keeper,” answered the man. “I can read tarots.”

Ryan snorted. “So, that is how you do it. You gather the information about your visitors beforehand.”

The keeper stared at him with bulging eyes. “The Silent Sibyl is real. His gifts are real.”

“Yeah, right,” scoffed Ryan. “Let’s see if that’s true, shall we?”

He beckoned Cory, who quickly lunged at the keeper and grabbed hold of the man from behind. Tyrel then clapped a hand over the man’s mouth to keep him silent.

“Wait,” Adrian began to protest, but Ryan was already prising the baton out of the keeper’s hand. He then turned to the cage.

The boy looked terrified now, his eyes filled with fear. “Now, you tell me,” spat Ryan, pointing the baton at Jongin. “Where am I from?”

The boy remained silent, gawking up at Ryan as tears slowly began to glimmer in his limpid eyes that were changing colours again.

Ryan slammed the baton against the cage then. Jongin crawled even further in his cage. He helplessly glanced to Adrian with a pleading look.

“What? Can’t say shit without your little helper here?” asked Ryan, pointing the baton to the keeper now.

The keeper squirmed and wriggled in Cory and Tyrel’s grip, trying to break free or scream for help.

Ryan chuckled, and so did his brother and Cory. Warren stood still, gaping at the horror that was unravelling before him.

“Come on,” Ryan spat at the scared boy. “Augur something for me! Am I going to be the captain one day? How many women have I slept with? How many of them have bled for me? How many more will I fuck before I die?”

Jongin clenched his eyes and hugged his knees to his chest. He shook his head, refusing to look at them. He looked so traumatized that his skin had gone completely ashen.

“Speak!” Ryan roared.

It was then when Adrian realized that the boy could not.

“Stop,” he growled at Ryan, lurching forward to tear the baton out of Ryan’s hand.

Before he could do anything to stop Ryan, the latter spun around to the keeper and picked the keys from the keeper’s belt.

“Ryan,” Warren called shakily. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Why?” Ryan laughed as he hastily unlocked the cage. “Are you worried that you are about to lose the wager? I told you he is a fake.”

Stepping into the cage, he almost laid his hands on the boy, trudging over the tarot cards.

That was when Adrian seized Ryan’s arm and yanked him away. Wrenching the baton out of Ryan’s grip, he hurled it across the room and grabbed hold of Ryan’s shirt collar.

“Leave him alone,” he spat through his teeth, glaring into the other man’s eyes. “I don’t think he can speak! I don’t think…” He looked to the boy again, frowning at the tears brimming his eyes.

Ryan stilled in Adrian’s harsh grip. Then he glanced at the boy trembling in the cage, looking up at them pitiably. He was so afraid of them hurting him. God. What had Adrian done… He never should have come back here. He never should have goaded the others to go with him.

Releasing Ryan’s shirt, Adrian heaved a sigh. “We’re… very sorry,” he told the boy in a quiet voice. Jongin read his lips carefully before he hung his head. “Come on. Let’s just go.”

With a heavy heart, Adrian turned around to leave.

Cory and Tyrel unhanded the keeper, who sank to his knees, gasping for air. “You rowdy bastards will pay for this!” he yapped at them. “Wait until the Ringmaster hears of this!”

“I suggest you keep quiet if you don’t want any more trouble,” said Cory, pressing a finger to his sneering lips.

Adrian glanced back at the boy, who was rising to his knees so that he could pick up the tarot cards and stack them up again while the keeper slammed the cage shut and locked it once more.

“Out! Out!” the keeper snarled at them, running out of the box to get the scouts.

“Adrian, we should go,” said Warren, waiting for Adrian by the entrance.

Adrian licked his lips and walked back to the cage instead. He picked up a card that had strayed away from the cage and lowered to one knee before holding it out to the boy.

Jongin raised his head and looked at Adrian with a pair of glistening hazel eyes. He hesitated to take it from Adrian’s hand.

“Here,” Adrian muttered, holding it further out.

The boy stared at the tarot card for a long moment before he finally brought a hand up and wrapped his fingers lightly around the card. Then withdrawing it from Adrian’s grip, he held it with both hands and studied the card with scrutiny for a strength. He then held it out again for Adrian to see. It was a card with two blood-red hearts joined by a length of vine barbed with terrifying thorns that kept them from touching one another. Everywhere the thorn pierced, the hearts bled, their blood spilling to the bottom of the black card.

Adrian was not sure why the card made him nervous. When he looked up at the boy again, Jongin brought the card to his chest and held it there for a moment.

“Adrian,” Tyrel hissed, peering back into the box. “We have to get going!”

“I must go now,” Adrian told Jongin in a soft voice. “I am so sorry about everything.”

As he started to rise to his full height, the boy held the card back out to Adrian, urging him to take it.

Adrian blinked at it for a moment, his heart doing a somersault in his chest. “Are you… giving it to me?”

The boy nodded his head with glinting stars in his beautiful eyes. Adrian was unable to refuse as he took the card and slipped it into his pocket.

When he started to retreat, the boy gently curled his delicate-looking fingers around the rails of the cage and watched Adrian go with a palpable yearning in his gaze.

Adrian needed the ache in his chest to stop. The boy’s eyes were making it so difficult for him to walk away. Something told Adrian, however, that this would not be their last meeting. He was not going to let it be their last meeting.

Before the keeper had managed to have the scouts over, Adrian and the others fled from the tent, breaking into a sprint. As they raced through the streets, bolting past the gasping villagers, Adrian felt strangely hollow. It felt as though he had left a part of his heart back at the circus.

He only slowed down once he had vaulted over the fence bordering the outskirts of the village.

“That was a rush,” remarked Cory as they stopped to catch their breath.

Adrian lunged at Ryan then and caught him by the collar of his shirt once more. “Were you out of your mind?!” he growled at the other man. “You were such an asshole, Lawson!”

Ryan grabbed Adrian’s hand and tore it away from his shirt. “I didn’t know the freak was a mute!”

Adrian did not know what had overcome his senses in that moment, but the next thing he knew was his fist flying up and across Ryan’s face, sending him staggering to a side.

“Don’t fucking call him that,” Adrian spat.

Ryan drew his sword then, snarling viciously. “What do you care about the freak?!” He genuinely looked confused and curious as he held the sword out to Adrian.

Adrian wrapped his hand around the grip of his sword and almost unsheathed it before Tyrel stepped in between them.

“That is enough!” he snapped at them both. “What has gotten into you two? You are acting like two hormonal teenagers!”

Ryan stopped, huffing heavily as he glowered into Adrian’s eyes. Then sheathing his sword, he said, “Ask him. He is the one acting like a total nutjob.”

Adrian lurched forward again, only to be shoved back by Tyrel. “I was not the one ragging on the poor boy to prove some asinine point, Lawson.”

“You were the one who wanted to go there and see him again in the first place!”

“It was not to make him cry! Did you look at the way he looked at us?! He was so… afraid.”

Adrian sucked in a shaky breath and rubbed his temples worriedly. What sort of horrid things must the boy have gone through that even a threat so small had managed to terrify him so much? But then again, he was a young gifted boy who was caged, fettered and put on display at a circus. And worst of all, he was a mute. And from the way he kept reading everyone’s lips to understand what they were saying, he must be deaf as well.

Adrian’s chest tightened painfully.

He looked up at Ryan again with a harsh scowl. “Let’s just head back,” he spat furiously and started stomping toward the camp. He wished he had access to some heavy dark beer.

No one said another word until they reached the encampment.

“Are you okay?” Warren inquired as he followed Adrian to the lavatory.

“I’m fine. Just leave me be for a while,” Adrian grumbled, unlacing his trousers. Warren stood by the entrance of the lavatory. “I just want to piss, Warren. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“It’s just that,” Warren started to say. “I have never seen you so… angry before.”

“Well, you have obviously never seen me pissed off then,” Adrian muttered under his breath. Once he was done, he turned around to face the boy, fastening his laces again. “I just need to blow off some steam, kid. I will be fine.”

“You did not like the way they were flouting at the sibyl,” said Warren. “I didn’t either. But I’m sure they would not have hurt him.”

“It was a bad idea going back there,” Adrian sighed. “He is not some… item for people like us to be amused with. He is also a person.”

“Of course, he is,” said Warren.

When Adrian returned to the shared tent with Warren, Ryan pinned him with a scowl from the pallet he was reclined on before he turned his back to Adrian.

Sighing, Adrian settled on his own pallet and withdrew the tarot card from his pocket. In the dark, he studied the card sedulously, taking note of every element in it. He did not understand what it meant, but it gave an ominous feeling that made his blood run cold. He wondered if Jongin knew what the card signified, what terrible omens it conveyed. Even so, Adrian held it to his chest the same way the boy had, a small smile creeping onto his lips as he stared at the tent above him. The boy had gifted him the tarot card. He had… given it to Adrian to keep. It might not mean much to many, but it meant a great deal to Adrian.

He had to stop right now before he could fall any deeper. He had to end it all right this instant. Though he had no clue what these twisted emotions he had been feeling since he had met the sibyl meant, but they could mean no good. Such a strong, confusing feeling could only ever lead a man to his downfall.

Adrian knew that he had to turn off everything that he was starting to feel. But it was easier thought than done. He drifted off that night with a goofy grin on his face, thinking of the boy’s sweet face and gentle eyes. He had to return the favour, did he not? He had to give the boy a gift as well. Something precious.

He could not wait to see Jongin again.

* * *

# C H A P T E R T H R E E

“Did you lose something?”

Adrian turned away from the trunk briefly to look at Tyrel, who was staring at him with his arms crossed. “Just looking for my first badge,” he muttered and started rummaging through his belongings again.

“Your first badge?”

“The one I got when I enlisted as a soldier.”

“Why are you looking for that?”

Though it was no longer something that was useful to him, it was still something he cherished greatly. And he wanted the boy, Jongin to have something to remember him by. The thought of it saddened Adrian every time it came to him. But he wanted to give the boy something of his before he left. He was certain that they would never see each other again once one of the companies took off from Arovel. Besides, Jongin had given him something, hadn’t he? It would only be polite of Adrian to return the nice gesture.

Or he simply just needed an excuse to see the boy again.

Either way, he was determined to head back to the village tonight and try to catch the boy after the circus is closed. Perhaps then he would get to actually talk to Jongin. He kept thinking about what he would say to him.

_Hi, my name is Adrian. I am a soldier now, but I was born to a smithy._

God, that sounded horrible even in the privacy of his head. He was not applying for a job. He had to be more personal.

_Hi, I’m Adrian. And you are very beautiful._

That might be a little creepy, but the boy might find it flattering.

In the end, Adrian decided that he should start with an issuance of an apology for the debacle he had been a part of last night.

This time, he did not plan on bringing anyone along. He wanted to see the boy, on his own, in private. He was not sure if it would be a good idea, but he wanted to do it, anyway.

“The captain’s looking for you,” Tyrel said when Adrian finally found the badge in the trunk. Adrian grinned at the badge, swiping his thumb over the dull bronze.

It was not something great, but it was all that he had at the moment. And he hoped that it was enough to impress the boy.

“Adrian,” Tyrel called when Adrian did not respond. “Did you hear what I said? Gavin wants to see you.”

Sighing heavily, Adrian rose to his feet and put his little trunk away before pocketing the badge. “What does he want?”

“I did not stop to ask.” Tyrel scowled. “What has gotten into you? You have been all dazed and distracted the last few days.”

Adrian ignored him as he brushed past him and started for the captain’s tent. He found Gavin perched on a stump just outside his tent.

“Vanstone,” he called, casually sharpening his dagger with a whetstone. “Have you given my offer any thought?”

Honestly, Adrian had not. He had been too preoccupied with the thoughts of Jongin lately that he could barely think of anything else. Part of him wanted to get the boy out of his system as soon as possible so that he could go back to focusing on his life.

“I asked for the week,” Adrian said. “I promise you an answer at the end of it, Captain.”

Gavin rose from the tree stump and flipped the dagger in his hand before shoving it back into his boot. “You came here to serve your country and king, did you not? In the best way you could?”

Adrian stared at the man. Then at length, he gave a nod of his head.

Gavin scoffed. “Just making sure.” With that, he turned around and walked back into the tent.

Adrian rubbed the back of his neck, realizing that Gavin was trying to guilt-trip him. He should really start taking the promotion seriously, though. He would have to give the captain an answer that would determine his future at the end of the week.

* * *

The only thing that had kept him awake until late night was the excitement of seeing the boy again. He had no trouble at all slipping away from his tentmates as they had all been fast asleep for hours now.

After pulling on one of his clean shirts, he headed for the village. On his way, he made sure that he did not smell terrible. He could not really tell because he had been in the constant company of smelly men for months, and they had absolutely no regard for personal hygiene. Adrian himself had never bothered to bathe for someone else before tonight. He hoped that the little clean water and some lye soap he had used to scrub himself earlier were enough to make him smell decent. He had never trimmed his beard for someone else either or combed his hair. Not that the latter mattered anyway since the wind of the desert tousled it up all the same.

Still, he had spent all evening primping up, which he had never done before. He had never wanted to impress anyone before. Not like this.

The world was so quiet tonight. The village was already asleep. It was a couple of hours past midnight. The circus would definitely be closed now. Adrian had to find a way to sneak out to the wagons he had seen behind the circus tent. He had never done something like this before. Well, he had snuck into several women’s bedrooms in his younger years, but that was different. They had given him an invitation, which he had gladly accepted. But tonight, he was doing something he had never done before. He simply wanted to see the boy and share a small conversation with him.

As he strolled down the dark streets of the village, he heard a mongrel howl in the distance. Some mangy cats scurried past him, chasing one another. And on the opposite street, he saw a man walking up to a common strumpet, who gladly took his money pouch and guided him further into the dark of the alley.

“Never seen a man like you around here,” a sultry voice said from the shadows as Adrian strode past the alley. He then looked at the scantily dressed strumpet with an arched eyebrow and a smirk.

“Darling, I’m probably the only man you have seen,” he replied. He was not usually one to make such cocky remarks, but something about tonight made him feel more confident than ever. Or he was _trying_ to be more confident than he always was. He needed the extra confidence to be able to find the boy and face him.

The woman stepped out of the shadows and slid closer to Adrian with an inviting smile. “Do you have any money on you?” she asked, drawing a hand down Adrian’s chest.

“No,” said Adrian, licking his lips. He then took hold of the strumpet’s hand and let it fall. “And I’m not here for this.”

She looked a little conflicted at first, but then she smiled again. “Well, sometimes, we do it for business. Sometimes, it is for pleasure.” She nodded her head toward the small cottage on her left. “Why don’t we head inside? I have a bed of my own.”

Adrian was incredibly flattered by her offer, but he simply smiled back and walked away, adjusting the laces of his black shirt.

It was odd to see the circus so… dead. Without all its pizzazz, colour and glamour, it looked so depressing. Even the air that surrounded the circus was heavy with woe. The caravans were hitched behind the massive tent.

Adrian was pleased to find the scouts guarding the tent falling asleep on the job. Nevertheless, Adrian decided to be cautious as he slipped past them, sticking close to the shadows. He watched his steps, making sure that he did not make any noise as he slinked past the scouts.

There were thirteen small wagons and three larger caravans, one of which was almost large enough to pass for a small cottage. It had to be the Ringmaster’s, Adrian deduced, from the way the door bore a big, gawdy golden star. An oil lamp was still lit in the caravan. As Adrian walked past the wagon, unable to help his curiosity, he momentarily stopped to peer into the wagon through the window.

He found the Ringmaster seated at a table in his undergarments, twisting his moustache with one hand while counting his coins with the other, stacking them up in tall towers of gold. He hummed a merry tune as he counted, grinning with pride and gratification.

But then slowly his grin faltered as a scowl began to furrow his brows. “Twenty coins less than yesterday,” said the Ringmaster, scratching an arm. “It is becoming less profitable to stay here by the day.” He then took a sip of thick velvet the winecup contained.

Adrian glanced around him before pressing onwards toward the other wagons. He halted dead in his tracks abruptly however, his heart almost falling out of his chest as his gaze darted to the pair of glaring golden eyes. Even in the dark of the moonless night, those eyes gleamed like two specks that had dripped from the sun as they glowered menacingly in Adrian’s way.

All blood drained from Adrian’s face as the tiger prowled closer, taking slow and steady steps, as though it did not want to startle its prey, which was probably what Adrian was to him right now.

When the beast bared its fangs, growling lowly, Adrian almost turned and fled. He was no coward, but he knew how to pick his fights. He did not want to fight a fight he knew he would not win. Besides, he was the one in the wrong. It would not be fair to challenge the beast unnecessarily.

He looked to the leash around the tiger’s neck. The chain was long enough for the striped beast to reach him. However, instead of fleeing, Adrian stood his ground. Not in a challenging way, but to let the tiger know that he was not afraid of it.

Adrian tried to calm his galloping heart. He had never been in such close proximity with a tiger before. One wrong move and he knew he would lose his head.

But then the tiger stopped and sat down on the ground, looking up at Adrian curiously. Its long, thick tail whooshed from side to side as it watched Adrian intently.

Swallowing hard, Adrian attempted to slowly move away. The tiger’s sharp gaze followed him as he carefully stepped to the side, his hand rising to the pommel of his sword.

The tiger jolted up to its paws again and snarled at Adrian. Immediately, Adrian retrieved his hand from the sword and held it up. The beast calmed down again, blinking its eyes lazily. It did not want to be threatened.

“All right,” Adrian whispered very quietly. “I won’t go for the sword. And you don’t attack me. Deal?”

As he moved further away, the tiger followed him with steps as slow as his own.

“Why are you following me?!” Adrian hissed at it.

The tiger looked amused now as it skipped lightly after Adrian when he tried to walk away faster.

“You won’t like me,” Adrian told it. “I’m all muscle. Tough meat. Difficult to chew. Trust me. You’re better off without me sticking between your… very sharp teeth.”

The tiger then playfully leaped forward, and Adrian jumped back, startled. That was when he noticed the golden tag hanging to the animal’s collar. It had **BAASHERE** engraved on it.

Exotic, Adrian thought.

“Baashere?” he said.

The tiger sat its rear down and blinked at Adrian, head slightly tilted to the side. It wagged its tail again.

“Okay, Baashere,” Adrian whispered. “I have to go now.”

He turned around and started for one of the wagons. He stopped again when he spotted a scout. He was asleep in a chair, fortunately. Adrian checked the first wagon, peeking in through the window. He found the actresses from the Blushing Brides act in it, sleeping on a pallet with their limbs tangled messily.

Sighing in disappointment, he turned to the next one. He did not find Jongin in there. Neither did he find the boy in the third, fourth, fifth or the sixth wagon. But as he approached the seventh, which was on the other side the Ringmaster’s caravan, he heard footsteps behind him.

When he spun around with alarm, he found the tiger treading after him, the chain of its leash dragging on behind it. It stopped suddenly and stood up taller, blinking at Adrian. It then patted the ground with one of its paws a few times.

“I don’t have time to play,” Adrian told the tiger.

The tiger growled again, but it sounded almost like a whine. It rubbed its paw on the ground once more before holding it up, looking at Adrian pitifully.

With his eyebrows furrowing in puzzlement, Adrian took a step closer to the beast. “I must be out of my goddamn mind,” he muttered to himself as he approached Baashere.

The tiger kept its paw up, as though it wanted Adrian to take hold of it.

Crouching down a little, Adrian reached out for the paw, his hand trembling with caution. Up close, the paw was almost as big as his face.

“I hope this isn’t a trap,” Adrian let out as he carefully took hold of the paw. God was it heavy!

He paused for a beat to gawk at the thick, huge claws. His throat instantly tightened. He could feel the tiger’s breath on his face. Each one of the beans of his paw was thick and rough. Then as he slowly turned the paw up to inspect its underside, the tiger remained patient and calm.

“Oh,” Adrian exhaled, noticing the splinter in the paw. “That does not look very comfortable.”

Baashere made a small grunt.

Licking his lips, Adrian held the giant paw in one hand and raised the other to pluck the splinter out of the paw. As soon as he had relieved the tiger of its pain, it hopped back and let out a quiet roar.

“Shit,” Adrian gasped, leaping back as well. The tiger quickly plumped down on the ground to start licking its paw. “I guess you owe me one now.”

Smirking, he turned to the wagon he was about to approach before the tiger had interrupted.

Sucking in a breath, he climbed up the wooden steps of the wagon before casting a brief look into the wagon through the barred aperture of the locked door. He squinted at the thick darkness of the wagon, searching for its occupant. He was about to pull away before his eyes finally darted to the small frame cocooned up in the blankets on a pallet.

Adrian’s heart skipped a beat. It was the boy, curled up in the blankets, shivering and snivelling silently. Was he… crying himself to sleep?

_He is here,_ Adrian thought, his blood drumming in his ears. He had come here looking for the boy, but now that he had found him, Adrian was not sure what to do. Not even wars could unnerve him this much but trying to approach and talk to a pretty boy turned him into a bundle of nerves.

“Man up, Adrian,” he muttered to himself, inhaling and exhaling heavily. Lifting an anxious fist, he gave the door a knock. He seriously hoped that he would not startle the boy or creep him out. When he peeked through the window again, he found the boy still on his pallet with his back turned toward the door. It did not look like he was asleep. He was definitely crying. Did he not hear the knock? Was he really deaf, as Adrian had thought?

“Whoa,” he gasped when he was lightly shoved aside by the tiger that pushed past him, so that it could jump up to its hindlegs and cling onto the edge of the window. It then whimpered softly, looking into the wagon.

Adrian made a face at the tiger. “I want to see, too,” he hissed at it, but he knew better than to shove the beast out of the way and provoke it. Why wasn’t it in a cage, he wondered. If they had left to roam, though leashed, it could not be all that dangerous, could it? It had to be a tame tiger.

After a couple of minutes, Adrian heard something ruffling from the inside of the wagon before he heard light approaching footfalls. His heartbeat began to race. He fought the urge to run away and hide. He had come here to see the boy, and he was going to do that if it killed him.

The tiger patted the bars of the window a few times, growling softly. And then Adrian saw a hand reach past the bars to take hold of the tiger’s paw.

Swallowing the anxious lump in his throat, Adrian clenched his clammy hands and looked at the boy, who came forth, smiling at the tiger with puffy, bloodshot eyes. His lips and cheeks were slightly swollen, too. He had clearly been crying.

As he stretched an arm out to stroke the tiger’s head, his gaze lifted to meet Adrian’s. The boy froze altogether at once, his glassy eyes ballooning with either surprise or horror, Adrian could not tell.

The tiger then stepped down and turned to Adrian. It snarled a warning at him before it walked away.

Adrian tried to muster the courage to speak, but words failed him for a moment. He felt like a pathetic idiot, who could not even find the courage to talk. He had never been so paralyzed before in his life. Not even when he was fighting off armed enemies who wanted to kill him.

The boy did not look away either, though his fingers curled around the metal bars.

“H-Hi,” Adrian let out when he finally found his voice again. He gulped a few times before he took just one step closer to the wagon door.

Jongin’s astonishment mellowed into something akin to embarrassment. He looked away momentarily, blushing. Then he met Adrian’s eyes again, lips quivering.

“I hope… I didn’t scare you,” Adrian said, speaking slowly so that the boy would be able to read his lips in the dark of the night.

Scratching the back of his head for a moment, Adrian tried to think of something else to say. He then took another step toward the boy.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

The boy’s eyes widened once again, and his cheeks grew redder. Then with a disappointed frown, he shook his head. He pulled a hand down before Adrian heard the door handle click. It was locked. Did he not own the keys to the door? Was he… locked in by the people who ran the circus?

That was atrocious! Adrian’s blood began to curdle at the thought of the boy being kept here against his will.

He lurched forward and wrapped his strong hands around the bars of the window. The boy flinched and pulled away, curling his lower lip between his teeth.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian apologized at once. “I am not going to hurt you. And I am sorry for what happened last night, too.”

Jongin shyly looked away again. When he glanced back at Adrian, he raised his hands back to the bars again, though they maintained their distance from Adrian’s hands.

“I… My name is Adrian,” Adrian said. The boy took in a sharp breath then, looking intrigued. “But you probably already knew that.” Adrian smiled sheepishly.

The boy shook his head timidly.

Adrian blinked. “You did not know my name?”

He shook his head again.

“Oh. But you knew… Ryan’s. You can read everyone’s… soul, can’t you?”

The boy nodded then.

Adrian arched an eyebrow. “But not… mine?”

Jongin only stared at him guiltily now.

Adrian scratched the nape of his neck confusedly. “Does that mean… I don’t have a soul or something?”

It took him completely by surprise when the boy broke into a soft laugh, his chest struggling to make the little grunts and gasps as he chuckled in amusement. Adrian unconsciously smiled to himself, watching the boy laugh. It was the one of the most pleasant things he had ever heard. 

But then Jongin stopped all of a sudden, his expression turning sombre and glum once again. He briefly averted his gaze, frowning sadly, fingers brushing his own lips, as though he could not believe that he had just laughed. It did not seem like he did that very often, and that disheartened Adrian as well.

“Your name is Jongin?” Adrian asked once the boy looked up again. He got a small nod in response. “That is a very beautiful name.”

Even in the dark, Adrian could see the boy blushing fervently.

“H-How old are you?” he asked. He had come here to get to know the boy a little better, and he planned on doing just that before the night ended.

Jongin raised two fingers first before sticking out just his forefinger.

“Twenty-one?” said Adrian.

Jongin nodded his head, rubbing an elbow shyly with a hand.

Adrian rubbed his beard, smiling nervously. “I’m thirty-six,” he sighed. “I am in the army. We are camping nearby actually.”

Another nod. He must have figured out that much since he had met Adrian’s friends.

“Have you… seen the camp?”

The boy shook his head.

Adrian worried his lower lip for a moment, glancing around just to make sure the coast was clear. Then facing the boy again, he said, “Are you not… allowed to leave your wagon?”

It took Jongin a moment to respond, but when he finally did, he looked incredibly sad as he shook his head. He stepped back a little to pick up the chain tethered to the shackle on his ankle.

Adrian had half the mind to kick the door down and free the boy of the fetter. But he knew better than to cause a scene right now that would get him in trouble with the captain.

“Don’t you… ever want to leave?” Adrian then asked, edging closer to the window. “Leave here? Leave the circus?”

Jongin’s face lit up like the brightest star as he lurched forward and grabbed hold of the bars. He bowed his head, his eyes longing, his parted lips panting.

Adrian’s own breathing quickened. Their faces were so close now. If it were not for the bars, he might have gone a little closer. He might have reached in and touched the boy’s cheek. He wondered what Jongin might do if Adrian laid his rough, callused hand on him. Would he flinch away? Would he recoil in disgust?

Only one way to find out.

He started to slip his hand through the gaps of the bars as Jongin’s eyes bored into his own, their breaths shallow and heavy. The boy’s gaze was inviting. So inviting. And so were his plump, rosy lips.

But then Adrian jumped back with a start when he heard someone whistling as they approached.

“I have to go,” he told Jongin, eyebrows knitted together in disappointment.

The boy mirrored a similar expression as he began to step back from the door.

“Wait,” Adrian rasped, fishing the badge out of his pocket. He then hurriedly held it through the window. “I brought this… for you.”

The boy’s face crimsoned while his eyes bulged out. He raised a hand to his chest and clutched at his tunic, gawking unblinkingly at the glimmering bronze of the badge. He then looked up at Adrian again, shocked and puzzled.

“You… gave me the card,” whispered Adrian. “Take this. Please.”

After a few seconds, the boy came close to Adrian again and accepted the badge. He then stared at it for a stretch, his chest heaving lightly in exhilaration. Adrian grinned to himself.

“Take care of it for me, will you?” he said as he started to retreat while keeping his eyes on the blushing boy. “I will return. I want to see you again.”

The boy looked so overwhelmed that his eyes were twinkling, his breath snatched away.

“Do… _you_ want to see me again?” he asked as the last thing, briefly pausing his strides.

After a moment of hesitation, the boy lowered his head bashfully, giving it a half nod. Adrian could not help the smile that stretched the corners of his lips to his ears then.

While a sandstorm was brewing in some part of the desert, another storm was growing in Adrian’s heart. He had never felt this way before, not in all those years he had been alive. Jongin made him feel something he had never experienced before. It was beautiful, painful and terrifyingly alarming at the same time.

“Tomorrow night,” he told the boy.

He then glanced to the dwarf man walking past the wagons while whistling a soft tune. Glimpsing the boy for one last time, Adrian hurried away into the shadows and waited until the dwarf had passed him to slink away without being noticed.

After a couple of minutes, as soon as it was safe for him to move again, he hurtled past the Ringmaster’s caravan and past the tiger Baashere.

The beast looked up at him curiously but did not do anything to cause panic. Adrian tossed a smile in its way, muttering, “Good boy.”

The tiger’s ears twitched a few times as it forlornly watched Adrian walk away.

* * *

Jongin had to admit that he had never in his life met a man like that. Adrian…

Adrian was apparently his name. A powerful name for a powerful looking man. It had taken Jongin completely by surprise when he found the man standing on the steps of the wagon, looking a little a nervous and a little guilt-stricken. But as soon as his eyes met Jongin’s, all of his qualms had melted away. He had looked at Jongin the way no else ever had.

The fact that Jongin’s mutism or deafness had not bothered him in the slightest bit as he carried on making conversation like Jongin was just another person had Jongin’s heart fluttering. No one had made Jongin feel so… normal before. And he liked it. He liked that Adrian talked to him so warmly in spite of the freak Jongin was.

But how real was it all, Jongin could not tell.

Since he was unable to look into the man’s soul, he had no idea what Adrian’s real intentions were. What sort of a man would sneak away to see him in the dead of the night? Especially when he was a soldier. He was not a civilian to be taking such risks. He had not come for a reading either. He had not come for a sibyl. He had come for Jongin. And he left Jongin with something precious.

Taking his seat back on his cold bedding after the man was gone, he unfurled his hand and stared at the badge on his palm. His heart was beating so fast that his head almost spun. No one had ever given him a gift before. He owned nothing, and he definitely did not own anything as shiny. He brought the badge up and brushed his lips against the bronze star, his laboured breathing coming out short and unsteady.

Why did his heart ache so badly? What was this strange feeling growing inside of him? Why did his body tremble whenever he thought of the man?

He did not know what to do with all these gushes of emotions. He had never wanted to understand someone’s soul as much as he did with Adrian’s, but it was the one soul he could not decipher. Why was that? Why was the universe preventing him from knowing the one soul he had ever really wanted to know?

But then he realized that this was his one chance to get to know someone the way ordinary people did. He would have to interact with the man, get to know him little by little with each conversation, with each action. There was no shortcut here. If he wanted to know Adrian, then he would have to do it the hard way.

He smiled for the first time in a very, very long time, cradling the man’s badge in his hand. He did not feel so lonely tonight. His senses were still full of Adrian’s scent. It was musky and earthy. Humble but intoxicating all the same. He tried to recall as much as he could about Adrian tonight. He had come clad in a black shirt, which looked so good on him. He had had his shirt unlaced at the top just like the last two times Jongin had seen him. His chest was heavily muscled, dusted with a few fine hairs. His neck looked strong, thickly veined. His jaw, though covered in beard, was perfectly defined and angular. Up close, Jongin had also noticed the few grey strands in his hair and beard. He truly was a diamond in the rough.

Jongin buried his burning face in his hands when he began to wonder what the man might look like underneath the clothes he wore. What an obscene thought! He had never had such a thought before. Embarrassed with himself, he laid down on the pallet and hugged the blankets.

He carefully placed the badge on a side of the pallet so that it would be last thing he saw before he fell asleep.

That night, he did not cry himself to sleep. He hoped to see Adrian again. God, he hoped to see so much more of Adrian.

* * *

The sound of the clashing blades carried to every corner of the encampment, breaking every silence of the desert in the morning. Adrian paused only for a few brief seconds to wipe the sweat from his forehead before he sprung forward again, swinging his sword.

Cory almost missed as he staggered and stumbled, trying to keep up with Adrian’s swings.

“Time out!” he cried eventually as he dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. “I yield! I yield!”

Adrian stopped and sheathed his sword before holding a hand down to Cory, who took it at once. Pulling the other man up, Adrian dusted the sand off Cory’s shirt and grinned.

“That was a good session,” he said.

Cory rolled his eyes. “For you. You almost took my head off over there.”

Adrian chuckled, shaking his head as he grabbed his shirt from the wooden stump and pulled it on. It clung to his sweat-bathed body like a second skin.

“You seem awfully chirpy today,” noted Ryan from where he sat, chewing on some ryebread. “Did you decide to take the promotion, after all?”

Adrian plumped beside Ryan and picked up a piece of ryebread and ate it. “Not yet.”

“Then why do you seem so happy?”

Adrian blinked at Ryan. “Happy?”

“Yeah,” Warren chimed in as he approached them. “You look happy.”

Adrian lowered his head, gnawing at his bottom lip. Could he really be that obvious? Ever since he came back from the circus last night, he had been on cloud nine, his heart lighter than it had ever been. Just the mere thought of Jongin holding his badge from time to time and thinking of him made Adrian’s heart go. He had not been able to hide his delight.

“I’m not happy,” he lied blatantly.

“Something has happened,” Ryan rasped. “Tell us. What did you hear? Is it about the war?”

“I heard nothing,” Adrian grumbled and shot back up to his feet. “Just give me hand with the water barrels when you are done speculating.”

“Lieutenant,” a soldier greeted him with a salute as he walked past Adrian, who was heading for the water barrels, so that he could reorganize them before they would have to journey due west again.

“I’m not your lieutenant, soldier,” he spat, shaking his head.

“Oh, but you will be!” exclaimed another.

Adrian smirked to himself, rubbing the back of his neck. He would not lie. It would be pretty awesome to be the second-in-command. Not to mention how overjoyed his father would be if he heard that he was now a man with power. He could give his sister and father a better living as an officer than he ever could as a smithy at his father’s forge.

He deserved the promotion, did he not? He had worked hard to get here. All that sweat and blood he had shed during his service had been recognized. He would not be offered a better opportunity. So, why should he refuse it? Of course, it meant more responsibilities, but Adrian had what it took to fulfil those duties. He just needed to believe in himself that he could lead people. He could make a difference.

This could shape his future.

But then the thought of Jongin flooded his mind.

Jongin had nothing to do with his future for now. But Adrian’s heart wavered as he thought of the possibility of having Jongin in his life for good. Was there even a possibility? A small one?

He did not think so. Not unless he was willing to lose everything else in his life. Everything he had worked thus far. Everything that he was supposed to be.

He stopped and sat down when he reached the water barrels as the sudden realization came to him in full swing. Up until now, he had refused to acknowledge what he truly wanted, what these new feelings for the boy had meant. But now that he was starting to accept the fact that there was a longing, that his heart desired the boy, his blood ran cold.

What had he done…

He should not have let it go this far, should he?

If the army, if the captain found out, he would have Adrian dismissed and imprisoned at once. If Adrian’s father knew… God, Adrian could not even imagine the anguish he would be causing the old man. And who would want to marry his sister if they came to know of the filth and traitor her brother was? Adrian could not afford a scandal this huge.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, planting his pulsing head in his hands.

And the worst part of it all was that… he had given Jongin false hopes. He had promised to return. He had made the boy a promise he now was not sure if he should keep. _Fuck._ How on earth did he let this happen?!

Just like that, the whole day changed.

* * *

Later that evening, as the men gathered around the campfire, Warren settled down beside Adrian. For most of the day, Adrian had been debating with his conscience, trying to decide whether or not he should sneak out tonight to see the boy again. He had promised, yes. But he could only make it harder for himself if he went looking for Jongin again. And what if he made it even more difficult for the boy?

Maybe it did not have to mean anything. Perhaps it did not have to be anything. Just seeing the boy would give Adrian’s heart some peace.

No, no. He should not. This could only end bad.

“What are you thinking?” Warren asked, placing a hand on Adrian’s shoulder.

Adrian looked up from the tarot card he had been staring at, holding in his hands. Pocketing it, he slouched forward, clasping his hands together with his brows furrowed broodingly.

“Nothing.”

Warren sighed. They were sitting further away from the others. “Here.”

Adrian took the bowl of potato peel and chicken liver gruel the boy handed him. “Thanks.”

As they ate, some of the men began to sing while one of them plucked at the strings of a lute.

“Was the card from the… circus?” Warren asked eventually.

Adrian kept mum, slurping the gruel without a response.

“You were not in your bed when I woke up in the middle of the night last night.”

Adrian raised his head and met Warren’s gaze then. He looked at the boy sharply, jaw clenched tight.

“Did you… go back to the village?” Warren asked in a low voice, averting his gaze.

Adrian was about to deny when he realized that he trusted Warren enough to be honest with him. “Yes,” he muttered.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I didn’t want to,” Adrian admitted blatantly. “It was… something I wanted to do by myself.”

Warren smiled. “You must have had a good time.”

Adrian set the bowl on the ground and rolled his shoulders back. “I am starting to think that I should not have gone at all.”

Warren exhaled heavily, staring into his half-emptied bowl. “I have had that thought from time to time.”

Adrian blinked at the boy. “You mean… to war?”

Warren nodded his head. “I just thought that… it would help my family. My mother. But now, I’m… worried that I would never go home.”

That was a worry everyone here had. Not many dared to utter it out loud, though.

“Your mother would be proud of you no matter what, Warren,” said Adrian, draping an arm over the boy’s shoulders.

When Warren lifted his eyes again, Adrian saw tears in them. “It is not about what _she_ would think.”

“Then what is it?” asked Adrian. “Is it… your lover?”

Warren hesitated to answer. Then almost leaning against Adrian’s shoulder, he said, “Y-Yes.”

Adrian waited for him to continue.

“I’m worried that… by the time I go home, _if_ I go home, that…”

“She might have moved on with someone else?”

Warren shook his head. “No… Well, that too. But mostly… We had just… told each other how we felt right before I left. Up until then, we were… we did not know what we were. I had not expected to be gone for so long. But now, it had been… so long. I don’t even know if things will be the same when I go home. My letters don’t get answered anymore.”

Adrian licked his lips before speaking. “They won’t,” he said. Warren’s eyes turned sadder. “But you must learn to adapt to those changes. You cannot expect everyone and everything to sit and wait for you. If they don’t wait, you cannot blame them. Everyone wants to… live. As much as they can.”

Warren lowered his head.

“But if your love is… formidable,” Adrian then added. “then you should not worry. You should not… question it. What does your heart say?”

“I… don’t know. I just… hope that… minds don’t change so easily.”

Adrian ruffled the boy’s hair at the back of his head. “Nothing changes as easily and as many times as a mind does, kiddo.” He then prodded a finger into Warren’s chest. “But the heart… It knows what it wants, and it will fight for it. It is always… it against the rest of the world. Look.”

He shifted his weight in his seat so that he was facing Warren.

“You cannot tell what the future has in store for you. You will find out eventually. Though it is human’s nature to worry over what comes tomorrow, there is nothing for you to do than to wait it out. Strive to live for today, and let tomorrow be tomorrow’s problem.”

As he said that, his own chest tightened.

A small smile crawled onto Warren’s face then. “Thanks, Adrian.”

“No problem, kid,” said Adrian.

“So, what were you doing at the village yesterday?”

Adrian withdrew his arm from Warren and gazed ahead at the men.

“Do you not want to talk about it?” asked Warren. “That is all right. I understand.”

Adrian arched an eyebrow. From the way the boy had let it go so easily and understandingly made Adrian wonder what sort of secrets Warren harboured.

Adrian never liked keeping secrets. Some secrets were the best weapon to spawn the demise of even the strongest of men. He did not have many secrets. But Jongin was now one of his secrets. And he was determined to protect it with all his might.

* * *

Nothing about the following day made much sense to Jongin. He carried on, since the moment he roused in the morning, in a jaded state. His head was a complete muddle, his limbs number than usual.

The circus was open twice in a day. Three hours in the morning and seven hours in the evening until all the way past midnight. During both showings, he could barely pay any attention to the circusgoers who came in for a reading. The keeper slammed the baton against the cage several times, growling at him to stay focused.

“If you misread another time, I am complaining to the Ringmaster,” the keeper warned him eventually, threatening to smack him with the baton if he spaced out or picked the wrong tarot card during a reading again.

Jongin took the threat and warning seriously, even though he still had a hard time paying attention. Concentrating had never been so difficult before.

When he was returned to the wagon later that noon so that he could have his respite before the evening show, he excitedly rummaged through the blankets where he had hidden the badge before he left the wagon earlier.

Finding it, he smiled to himself and held it close to his heart. Later, Baashere came to see him for a few minutes before he was dragged away. Jongin had given the tiger’s nose a gentle rub, which Baashere greatly appreciated.

That evening, Jongin could barely sit still in his cage in the circus tent. He could not help but wonder if the man… Adrian would come again tonight. He had promised to come, hadn’t he? Just the thought of someone coming to see him, simply because he wanted to, made Jongin’s heart beat faster.

He made it a point to make himself look more presentable when he was brought to his wagon later. He did not want to be caught off his guard like last night. Perhaps he would wash himself and wear his hair neatly. For Adrian. Would it even matter? Why did he want to make himself look nice for the man? Why did it matter what Adrian thought of him?

But what if… he found Jongin… pleasant to look at? Did anyone find Jongin pleasant to look at? Most of the days, Jongin was dressed in a raggedy tunic and walked around barefooted. He had never thought that anyone would find him attractive. But then Adrian had said that he had a beautiful name. And Jongin had liked knowing that the man thought that. If someone as handsome as Adrian thought him to be pretty, Jongin might just die from happiness.

Jongin had never anticipated something with bated breath as much as he did on that day. He wanted night to befall the world sooner. He could barely hold his excitement and nervousness in.

As the keeper dragged him out of the cage later that night, Jongin was quick to follow the man out of the tent. When he started for his wagon, he stumbled and almost fell as the keeper yanked at the chain of his fetter.

“Not so fast,” he spat when Jongin glanced back at him. “The Ringmaster would like to have a word with you.”

Every muscle in Jongin’s body numbed in the instant. A knifing pain in his abdomen made it hard for him to move or breathe. He looked at the keeper pleadingly, hoping that the man would cut him some slack.

But the keeper mercilessly started hauling him toward the Ringmaster’s caravan. Jongin tried to keep up with the man without stumbling too much, tripping over the chain.

When they reached the Ringmaster’s caravan, the keeper gave the door a knock. In a cage nearby, Baashere rose to his feet and looked in Jongin’s way. If only Jongin had not been so overwrought with fear of what was about to happen to him, he would have waved at the tiger.

The Ringmaster must have told them to enter because the keeper was now prising the door open and shoving Jongin into the caravan.

“He has not been performing very well in the last couple of days, Ringmaster,” the keeper said. Jongin turned his dreadful gaze from the keeper to the taller man, who was standing before a full-length mirror, undoing the buttons of his shirtfront.

Jongin’s breathing came out fast and jagged, his hands trembling at his sides.

“Is that so?” the Ringmaster said, still facing the mirror. Then removing his top hat, he placed it on the table before he turned around and confronted Jongin with an expressionless face. Jongin noticed the way his eyes turned into a deep shade of red in his reflection in the mirror. He lowered his head, making himself as small as he could.

Soon, the Ringmaster crossed the caravan and stopped less than a foot before Jongin. He then gently took hold of Jongin’s chin and raised it to meet his eyes.

Jongin stared at him, almost begging, all pink-eyed and lachrymose. He fisted his tunic by the chest, asking for the Ringmaster’s forgiveness.

“If you think you can weasel your way out of this circus by acting smart,” the Ringmaster said. Jongin did not have to hear to be able to know that the man’s voice was threatful. “Think again. No matter how many mistakes you make, you are going nowhere. You will only be making things harder for you like this, boy.”

He released Jongin’s chin as he turned away momentarily to pick up the bamboo cane from a corner of his caravan. Jongin’s heart almost fell out of his chest as the Ringmaster walked back to him with the cane in his hands.

“Don’t make it any harder than it already is,” said the Ringmaster, tapping the cane lightly against a palm.

Jongin looked back at the smirking keeper, who crossed his arms over his chest, standing guard by the door.

The longer Jongin dragged this out, the longer the night would be. Besides, what if he missed Adrian’s visit? He had to be back at his wagon before the man showed up. That was when he realized that he would rather get this over with soon and receive his punishment just so that he could see Adrian tonight.

Hanging his head and clenching his teeth, he turned his back to the Ringmaster, fingers curled tightly around his tunic. He shivered, awaiting the blow that would make his head spin and ears ring.

The first one was not so bad, but it still had Jongin staggering forward, choking on a painful sob. When the Ringmaster caned the back of his legs a second time, Jongin dropped to all fours, breaking into a cry. Tears streamed down his cheeks when the Ringmaster welted him a third time, the cane breaking the skin on his calves, bruising them severely. It was painful. So painful.

While it did not happen often, whenever it did happen, whenever the Ringmaster took the liberty to punish his mistakes in a way that made his stomach clench, Jongin felt so sick that he nearly threw up. Before joining this wretched circus, he had never experienced any sort of physical torture. He had fallen down a few times as a child and scraped his knee. But this was a far cry from

The keeper grabbed his arm then and hauled him back to his feet. Jongin shook terribly, his knees threatening to buckle again.

“I think three should suffice for this time,” the Ringmaster said. “I suggest you do not repeat these slip-ups, my Silent Sibyl.”

Jongin wiped his wet cheeks, still snivelling in agony. The pain would wane eventually, but for now, he found it difficult to walk as the keeper ushered him out of the caravan. He took smaller steps, making sure that he did not hurt the back of his legs any more than they already were.

Baashere sprung up in his cage and growled worriedly in Jongin’s way, skittishly pacing the small space of his cage. He then leaped up onto his hindlegs, leaning his front paws against the rails of his cage as Jongin limped past him.

Jongin tried to bite back on his tears, hands balled into tight fists at his sides. He winced when one of the acrobats shoved past him, not bothering to apologize for knocking into him.

Jongin wiped his eyes, dragging his feet heavily toward his wagon. As soon as he reached it, the keeper slammed the door shut and locked it behind him.

Jongin settled on the pallet and examined his throbbing calves for a moment. It stung when he touched the thick red strips of bruises on his legs. It would be so much worse tomorrow, he reckoned. Exhausted, he collapsed on the pallet for a rest.

Then slowly, he stretched an arm out and took hold of the badge Adrian had gifted him last night. It was a badge that was awarded to only soldiers, Jongin presumed. He had never seen such a badge before, except on men from the military.

The only thing that helped Jongin retain some strength was the thought of the man coming to see him again tonight. He rose from the pallet after a while and stripped down to nothing before climbing into the water tub. There was still some water left from this morning, so he took a quick bath, giving his body a thorough scrub. He gently washed his legs, careful not to touch the cane marks on his calves.

After drying himself with a towel, he clothed his body in one of the three tunics he had run away from home with. It clung to his rawboned body loosely, baring his prominent collarbones. He then carded his fingers through his hair to neaten it. Once he was convinced that this was the best that he could do to look decent and pretty, he returned to his pallet and sat down.

Taking hold of the badge, he then waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Someone eventually showed up at his wagon. He sprung up to his feet and flinched when his legs hurt. Ignoring the pain, he hurried to the door with his heart pounding in excitement.

Much to his disappointment, however, it was just one of the keepers with his dinner. She placed a bowl of chicken feet broth and the heel of yesterday’s bread on the ledge of the window before she walked away without sparing Jongin a glance.

Though Jongin brought the food in, he did not find the appetite to eat any of it. On the one hand, the bruises on his legs were causing him too much discomfort to be hungry. On the other, he was already on tenterhooks, as though he were having kittens, waiting for the soldier to show up.

He sombrely hugged his legs to his chest and rested a side of his face on his knees, thinking about the man again. He had spoken so gently to Jongin. Even the way he looked at Jongin was tender. The other night, when his companions were unkindly harrying Jongin in his cage, Adrian had stopped them. He had looked quite troubled and furious as he forced the man named Ryan to stop. Jongin’s heart fluttered stupidly. What if Adrian truly cared for him? Why would he when Jongin was just a freak he barely knew? Nevertheless, Jongin could not help the warm feeling Adrian’s memories brought him.

But as the night aged, all the warmth in his chest turned cold. Jongin did not dare catch a single wink as the night approached its dawn, worried that he might miss Adrian when he showed up.

However, even as daybreak arrived, Adrian did not make an appearance.

Jongin wrapped himself up in the blankets at last and decided to fall asleep. A few rivulets of tears seeped into his pallet. He should not have hoped. He should not have believed. He had always been so naïve, but this was the first time his naivety had caused him a heartbreak so painful.

* * *

# C H A P T E R F O U R

He did not have many days left. The circus could leave the village any day now. Adrian could not stop beating himself over the fact that he had deliberately chosen not to go see the boy last night as promised. It was for the best, he had convinced himself. But it was not. He had been walking around like a soulless man for the better part of the next morning, unable to do anything without thinking of the boy.

Would Jongin have waited for him last night? What if he had? What if Adrian had let him down? What if he had gone to bed sad because Adrian had not kept his word?

He was thankful for the distraction when the captain gave him a task around noon. “I need that answer soon, Vanstone,” he said before Adrian walked out of the captain’s tent.

Sighing, he returned to his own tent where he spread out the map of the borders on the ground and started perusing it.

“What are you up to?” asked Ryan when he found Adrian seated on the ground, staring at the map.

“Gavin asked me for formation suggestions,” Adrian muttered, eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on the east of the map.

“When are we leaving?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, what are you thinking about?”

“Our left flank should be guarded by the swordsmen,” said Adrian. “The enemy will be coming from the right, where the archers should be.”

Adrian then scratched his beard.

“Gavin would have thought of the forced concentration tactic just as much,” he muttered. “He is expecting something else.”

“Do you think this is a test for you?” asked Ryan, crouching to the ground. “For you to prove yourself?”

Adrian sighed. “I don’t care about that,” he said. “I want to do what I can for our men. I do not want to lose any one of you on the battleground.”

Ryan smiled at that. “See. That is what would make you a good leader.”

“Compassion is not always the most valued trait in a leader,” Adrian said. “It will hold one back.”

“Or he would lead us to victory and not just our imminent death.” Ryan rose back to his full height. “Gavin needs a second-in-command. He won’t go to the borders for a war without one. I say better you than anyone else in this army.”

Adrian arched an eyebrow at the man. “What about what you said the other night at the circus? About… wanting to be a captain one day?”

Ryan fumbled for his next words. “I meant nothing by that,” he said at length, shrugging. “It is not as though all of us haven’t had that dream.”

Truth be told, Adrian had never had that dream. He had never wanted to be more than just a mere soldier. He had never wanted to spend the rest of his life in this bloody, cutthroat environment. There would always be some war. There would always be kings fighting over one thing or another.

“Why don’t you put yourself forth to the captain?” Adrian told Ryan. “You are a very good soldier, too.”

“If Gavin had wanted me, he would have asked me, not you,” he said, sounding a little exasperated. Then letting out a big breath, he said, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

As soon as he was left alone again, Adrian rifled his fingers through his hair, teasing out the desert dust sticking to the strands. Then as he stared at his palm for a moment, another tactic came to his mind. He leaned back against Cory’s pallet and threw an arm over his forehead.

While he had never pictured himself as a lieutenant, he was beginning to wonder if he would truly make a good one. What if he did?

Picking up the map, he scrambled up to his feet and hurried out of the tent.

He found the captain seated at the table in his tent.

“We use the desert’s weather as a force multiplier,” Adrian said, bursting into the tent.

Gavin pinned him with a confused look. “I beg your pardon?”

“We exploit the prevailing heat of the desert,” he said. “And use it to our advantage. Wear out the enemy by prolonging their stay there. Our men are used to the heat and severity of the desert. It would also not be a bad idea to go with marching fire. An aggressive tactic. Find, fix, flank, finish. The enemy will not see it coming since we have not done something like this before. We will have taken more of their men out before they even got to the no man’s land.”

The captain rubbed his jaw. “I will look into it, Vanstone. It is a risky strategy.”

“But it will pay off.” Adrian placed the map back on the table. “If the past battles and our stay here have proven anything, it is that our men have the brutal strength and the capability to withstand the severe climate. We just have not utilized our best flairs yet.”

“Hmm,” the captain hummed, though he already looked like he was contemplating the strategy. “I am going to need more details of this tactic of yours later. But first, a new supply of provisions has been delivered. I am going to need you to head down to the village with ten to fifteen men and haul it up.”

Adrian blinked. “Me?”

“Overlook the task, will you?”

It caused Adrian both excitement and concern when he realized that the captain was already treating him like his lieutenant. It was when Adrian understood that no matter what his answer would be in the end, Gavin had already made up his mind. Refusal would only mean a disappointment that would cost Adrian. He would be shoved to the back of the line indefinitely.

He nodded his head. “Right away, Captain.”

* * *

He constantly cussed at himself as he kept glancing in the way of the circus, battling with his heart that wanted him to briefly sneak away from repository on the outskirts of the village where the men were loading the carts with barrels of food provisions and water.

Wiping a sweat from his forehead, he stepped forward to give a hand to a soldier who was struggling to lift the hefty barrel onto the cart.

“And that’s the last of it,” said another soldier.

Huffing lightly, Adrian undid the laces of his shirt, his body well-bathed in sweat, thanks to the unstinting afternoon heat.

“All right,” he told the men. “Let’s head back up to the camp.”

As the other started hauling the carts up the sandy hill, Adrian took a step forward and stopped, frowning. He glanced over his shoulder one more time before lowering his head for a moment.

“Darn it,” he spat under his breath and followed the men back to the camp with a heavy heart.

* * *

For a man who usually preened himself on his self-restraint, he sure did have a tough time maintaining one when it came to the boy.

He could not believe that he was sneaking into the area behind the circus tent once more when the night had grown dark enough for shadows to lurk freely of their own volition.

He was not sure what had convinced him in the end when he had been so determined that going back to see the boy would be a terrible idea. He had not bothered to wash the sweat off his body, trim his beard, or change into a cleaner shirt tonight. He had impulsively gotten up in the middle of the night and started for the village as he could no longer even breathe without thoughts of the boy haunting him.

When he arrived at the same wagon as the other night, he stopped to take a few deep breaths. The tiger was not around tonight, much to Adrian’s disappointment.

Stepping up to the wagon, Adrian bit into his lower lip as he gave the wagon’s door a knock, even though the boy would not be able to hear it. He hoped that he would at least be able to feel the wooden wagon judder at the knock.

There was no response. He then peered in through the window, wondering if the boy were even in there. His breathing seized for a moment when he found Jongin seated on the floor with his arms wrapped around his legs. His sad hazel eyes were looking directly at Adrian’s. There was no surprise in his gaze this time. In fact, he looked away after holding Adrian’s gaze for a few seconds before he rested his face on his knees.

A pang was sent to Adrian’s heart. “I’m sorry,” he said. He knew that he had to apologize for not keeping his promise. But the boy was no longer looking at him. Adrian slammed his hand lightly against the door. “Please.”

Jongin eventually raised his head again and frowned in Adrian’s way. Adrian found it difficult all of a sudden to meet the boy’s eyes. Struggling to stand up, the boy slowly and wobblily limped toward the door. Adrian wondered why he was limping. Had he hurt himself?

The boy loosely wrapped his fingers around the bars of the window and kept his eyes low for a moment. Had Adrian disappointed him so much that he was unable to even meet Adrian’s gaze?

“Were you…” he began to say, but Jongin did not lift his head to look at him. Licking his lips, Adrian then slid a nervous hand through the window. When his fingers lightly brushed the boy’s chin, he saw Jongin’s lips part slightly with a soft gasp. Adrian swallowed hard as he gently took hold of Jongin’s chin in his fingers and raised his head.

He could tell that the boy was holding his breath by the way his cheeks, neck and ears reddened, his lips quivering weakly. Jongin instantly yielded to Adrian’s touch, though his eyes were sparkling with something like disbelief.

Adrian’s own breathing shallowed as he stroked the skin beneath Jongin’s lower lip with his thumb, while his other hand rose to the bars. He felt the boy shudder, though he did not flinch away, when his hand closed around the boy’s hand that was holding a bar.

Jongin’s fingers were bony and delicate, unlike Adrian’s own callused and blistered ones. He was careful not to hurt the boy in any way with his strong fingers that were used to wielding a sword.

Fighting the urge to run his thumb along the boy’s plump but pale lower lip, he stared into the pair of brown eyes.

“Were you waiting… for me?” he asked in a breathy whisper, holding Jongin’s chin in place.

After a long minute of no response, the boy nodded his head once. Adrian stared at his eyes through his beautiful lowered lashes, his breathing quick and ragged.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his hand wandering to a side of Jongin’s jaw. The boy clenched his eyes as Adrian palmed his cheek, relishing the heat of his skin there. His heart drummed fiercely against his ribs, his hand caressing the soft cheek, never wanting to pull back. Then a quiet whimper broke from the boy’s throat as he leaned into Adrian’s touch, hungering to feel more of Adrian’s big, rough hand.

With his eyes still shut tight, the boy moved his hand so that his fingers were interlaced with Adrian’s around the bar. They stayed that way for a long moment. All that Adrian understood was that the boy had yearned for a touch like this. The longing was as clear as day.

“Jongin…” Adrian called, his breath grazing the boy’s face.

Jongin’s eyes drowsily fluttered open then and gazed up at Adrian’s. He looked like he wanted to tell Adrian something. He looked like he was pleading.

How could this be possible? How could Adrian want to go against the entire world for this boy? He would. In a heartbeat. He would do anything for Jongin.

“Does the circus leave… soon?” Adrian asked with a strange, stabbing pain in his heart.

Jongin’s eyes were sadder than they had been a moment before. He bowed his head, his hair falling over his face.

Adrian brushed a lock of hair from Jongin’s forehead and tucked it behind his ear. That made the boy blush.

“I cannot let you go,” Adrian admitted, his lungs aching for more air. “You cannot leave.”

The boy’s eyes widened. He pulled his hand away from Adrian then before he took a step back, frowning. He shook his head.

Adrian blinked.

Jongin turned around and limped into the darker corner of the wagon where he retrieved something before he returned to Adrian.

His heart dropped when Jongin held the badge out to him, as though he wanted to return it to Adrian.

“What is the meaning of this?” Adrian asked, eyebrows knitted in worry. “I gave it to you.”

The boy shook his head with tears welled up in his eyes.

Adrian scowled then. “I am serious,” he said. “About this. About… you. I am not trying to toy with your feelings. I am sorry I did not come yesterday. I was… unsure about… some things. But I am sure now. I am so sorry I betrayed your trust like that.”

Jongin wiped a tear that fell from his eye before he lowered down to pick up the chain of his fetter. Holding it up, he looked at Adrian.

“You said that you want to get out of here,” Adrian said, his jaw clenched. “If I… got you out of here, will you… go with me?”

The boy stepped forward once more, his eyes boring into Adrian’s.

“Go… with me,” Adrian repeated in a shaky whisper.

Jongin gave a weak nod. He seemed to be moved to tears, touched by what Adrian was offering him. His freedom.

At the cost of Adrian’s…

It did not matter now. Adrian had given his word. And he would keep it this time if it killed him.

He took hold of the boy’s hands that enveloped around the bars. “Give me some time,” he asked of Jongin. “I will… come back for you.”

Jongin took one of Adrian’s hands and brought it back to his face. Leaning his head to a side, he lightly rubbed Adrian’s palm against his cheek before he brushed a shy kiss to its heel.

Adrian’s heart stopped for a second, his lips stretching into a shaky smile. The boy’s lips were warm and soft against his hand. When Jongin finally released it, Adrian withdrew half-heartedly.

“How could someone be so beautiful,” he told Jongin, licking his lips.

The boy’s chest started heaving then, his hands curling around his tunic by his abdomen, as though his stomach was hurting. He mantled hard, face glowing with a blush. Adrian wanted to know what those cheeks would feel like pressed against his lips. Or better, what those trembling lips tasted like.

“I will come back,” Adrian said. “I promise. And I will stay true to my word this time.”

He turned around and stopped. Then with his hands balled into fists, he spun around once and lunged at the window, a hand coming up to cup Jongin’s cheek again. He gave the boy’s soft face one last caress before he pulled away for good and started back for the camp.

On his way back, he tried to calm his racing heart. His head was throbbing with dread. He could not let Jongin leave. He would never be able to see the boy again if he let him go. Adrian had a choice to make now.

It was either the army or Jongin.

As he reached his tent, he dropped on his pallet exhaustedly. In spite of the fatigue, he was unable to sleep. He lay wide awake as the sun rose on the horizon while his head and heart cudgelled one another, fighting between reason and love.

Was that what this was? This cosmic attraction and desire he had for Jongin? The way his every waking moment was dedicated to thoughts of the boy?

Was it what they called love?

Could it really be so strong? So out of the blue?

He could either stay in the army and climb up the ladder faster than ever, making a name for himself.

Or he could run away with the boy to a place where no one would be able to find him and live out the rest of his life as a war criminal.

“You were down there again?”

Adrian lifted his head and looked at Warren, who was sitting up on his pallet, looking in his way. Sighing heavily, Adrian dropped his head back and threw an arm over his eyes.

“Yes,” he muttered.

Warren did not ask him anything more.

* * *

He had never been touched that way before. Though Adrian’s hands might have been the roughest, his touch was the gentlest thing Jongin had ever felt. No one had been that kind to him. But more than anything, the way the man had looked at him as he held his face was what had had stirred Jongin’s blood in the nether parts of his body. It had him shuddering even now when he thought about it. Adrian’s hands been warm. So warm. Just like the man himself.

Of course, like most people, he had once wanted to find someone who would touch him the way Adrian had. He had seen so many men and women walk into the circus holding hands. They were so happy with each other. He had wanted to be loved for everything he was, too. He did not want to be just hidden away. He did not want people to fear for him. He had wanted someone who would let him be free and love him so easily.

Why would Adrian go to all that trouble to help Jongin get out of here if he did not care? He certainly did more than just care, did he not?

Jongin nuzzled into his blankets, unable to handle the warm fuzziness that spread through his chest and the butterflies that winged happily in his belly. He could not breathe. It was all so new and so overwhelming.

Would he finally be able to get out of here? Would he leave the circus for good? The cage, the fetters, the cane. He would get away from all of them. And fall safely in Adrian’s arms.

Someone in this world cared about him now. That alone was enough for Jongin to brave whatever obstacle thrown in his way. He cried that night, but it was tears of joy for the first time ever. He clutched his tunic at his chest, praying that Adrian was real and his promises were real. He did not know how bad the pain would be if his heart were broken. Especially now that it had started beating for someone else.

* * *

When it came down to it, it was not really that difficult of a decision to make. Adrian knew from the moment he had met Jongin that he would risk anything for the boy. He had taken an oath, yes. He had promised his service to the country and its king. But right now, there was nothing more important to him than to get the boy out of the circus. He knew for certain the he would regret it for the rest of his life, no matter how high up he would have soared in the army, if he gave up on someone that made his heart go crazy even with a single gaze.

“I saw a circus down in the village,” pointed out one of the soldiers the following day as they gathered around for some afternoon broth. “God, I wish I could go there.”

“Yes,” gasped another. Adrian eyed Ryan, Cory, Tyrel and Warren. They kept their heads low, not wanting to give away their little crime. “I heard that there is a soothsayer there who could read your soul!”

“That can’t be true,” said the first soldier while another looked surprised.

“He could predict your future!”

“Bullshit.”

Ryan rubbed his temples. “Fools,” he muttered to himself.

Adrian stared at his bowl, unable to stomach any of the food. When he looked up again, he caught Warren frowning at him.

“There is something you’re hiding, isn’t there?” he asked in a low whisper.

Adrian gritted his teeth. Now that he had made up his mind, he just had to muster the courage to sneak away from the camp one last time with all of his belongings. He would be hunted down by the capital guards as soon as his absence was noticed. He would have to go very far away and start a completely new life. He would never be able to see his family again.

Even so, he was willing to do all that just for the boy. Was it ridiculous and reckless? Perhaps. No… Absolutely. He supposed love had the power to make even the sanest of men willingly step into that kind of insanity.

“And there is something _you’re_ hiding as well, isn’t there?” Adrian said to Warren. Almost instantly, the boy’s expression hardened.

“What does that mean?”

“I am not an idiot, Warren,” Adrian sighed. “I can read between the lines.”

Warren’s cheeks turned palpably red, his unblinking eyes staring at Adrian in horror. “How…”

“It’s okay,” Adrian murmured. “I am no one to judge anyone. You can love whoever your heart desires… I don’t see how that is anyone else’s business.”

The boy hung his head. “I could get kicked out of the army if people knew,” he muttered under his breath. “And be stoned to death back at my hometown.”

“Do you really think I will tell anyone?”

“No… but…”

Adrian gave the boy’s back a pat. “Don’t worry. I promised to look out for you, and I will do that no matter whom you love. I only want for you to get back to whoever this boy is soon.” He smiled faintly. “He must be very special.”

A coy smile took form on Warren’s lips then. “He is.” The boy blushed embarrassedly. “I have never… talked about him to anyone. Not as a lover.”

Adrian was happy to see the boy be free of the secret with at least one person. “What have you wanted to talk about?”

“Just him,” said Warren, cheeks reddening. “And what an amazing person he is.”

“Is he now?”

Warren nodded excitedly. “He is the smartest boy in my town. His father is a scholar. He wanted to be a scholar, too. So, he went to a college. I missed him during those years, but he came back as… someone I would die to be.”

“You’re no slack yourself,” Adrian said.

“No, but he is something else. We have always been friends, but after he came back, we started… being more than friends. All the girls in town ran after him, madly in love with him. His father wants him to marry up. So, he keeps looking for alliances with some barons’ daughters.”

Warren sighed. “I’m no baron’s daughter.”

“But he loves _you_,” said Adrian, patting the boy’s back. “That is more than enough sometimes.”

The smile returned to Warren’s face. “I miss him. So much.”

“Perhaps I can meet him one day.”

“I would like that. He would really like you.”

Nodding his head, Adrian rose from his seat and meandered his way through the soldiers to get the lavatory, where he promptly splashed some water onto his face.

He had made up his mind. He would leave with Jongin and get him to a safe place first. Whatever that was to come next, he would deal with it later. His priority now was to help Jongin get away from the circus.

* * *

He waited until late the next night to sneak out of the encampment. As much as he wanted to bid his fellow soldiers farewell, he could not. As he walked away from the camp, a bitter bile rose in his throat, making him nearly sick. His comrades would be fighting in the war, for both victory and their lives, while Adrian had walked away. He would be taken for a coward who abandoned his duties to his country. He would be deemed a dishonourable man. The friends he had made in the army would be disgusted with him, all of his memories dishonoured and charred. He would have let down the captain, who was in need of a competent second-in-command before he could face the enemy at the borders. Even if he wanted to return, the captain would not have him back.

Adrian was giving up so much for the boy. And even then, he did not doubt the boy’s worth to him even for a second. He was just dismayed by the fact that he could not have both.

In a compact knapsack, he had managed to take his belongings that were absolutely necessary. Apart from that, he only took the sword his father had forged for him.

“Adrian,” a voice called in the dark of the night all of a sudden, halting Adrian dead in his tracks.

When he turned around, he found Warren standing there with a look of concern on his face. His eyes flitted to the knapsack Adrian had slung on a shoulder and frowned.

“No,” he let out. “Don’t…”

Adrian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I must.”

“You are making a mistake, Adrian. I don’t know why you are leaving, but if you leave now, you will—”

“I have made up my mind, kid,” he said. “I will not be doing this if there was another way.”

“What is happening? Is it something I can help with?”

Adrian shook his head. “I cannot drag any of you into this. This is something… I must do. And I want to do this.”

Warren’s frown deepened. “Where… are you going?”

Adrian did not answer. Instead, he closed the distance between them and gave the boy a hug. “Stay strong. You are more formidable than you think. Don’t let this war break you.”

With that, he pulled away and started for the village, knowing that Warren would not follow him.

“Will you… come back?” Warren asked before Adrian could wander too far away from him.

Adrian did not stop to answer the boy. He did not think that he had an answer, anyway.

All his life, though he had never complained about the bleak life he had grown up with, he knew that he had always hungered for something more. Perhaps that was the true reason why he had enlisted in the army. To matter more. To make something of himself. But perhaps that had not been his destiny after all. Either way, his life was never meant to be that of an ordinary man’s.

As soon as he reached the village, he slinked past the cottages, sticking close to the shadows to stay out of sight. There were not many onlookers, but there were a few villagers who were still roaming about the streets drunkenly. He headed for the circus tent, hoping to find Jongin in his wagon.

He must have been early tonight because the circus workers were bustling behind the massive tent, rushing in and out of caravans and smaller wagons.

Adrian lingered behind one of the wagons, watching the performers wave each other goodnight before they stepped into their designated wagons.

It took a while for the area to be safe for Adrian to cross it. He came to a stop abruptly when he heard a voice coming from a nearby caravan. Cursing under his breath, he hurried to the back of another wagon.

It was the Ringmaster. He was holding the door of his caravan open while someone walked out. Adrian’s gaze promptly darted to the tiger that was leashed to a post near the Ringmaster’s caravan. It leaped up to its feet and started pacing excitedly here and there. Was it thrilled to see its master?

And then Adrian looked to the keeper, whom he had seen guarding and assisting the Silent Sibyl. His eyes widened.

“Make sure he does not get anything to eat tonight,” the Ringmaster told the keeper. When Adrian stuck his head out a little further, he saw the chain the keeper was yanking at.

His heart nearly fell out of his chest when his gaze fell on Jongin. As the keeper dragged him away from the caravan, the Ringmaster stopped him momentarily to cup his chin.

“You are testing my patience,” the Ringmaster told the boy. Though he had a smile on, his tone sounded threatful. It was a warning. “The next time you disappoint me, I can promise you that I will break your knees for good.”

Adrian’s whole body froze for a beat, his face paling like a ghost’s as he gawked at the boy, who had tears streaming down his cheeks.

Gripping his jaw, Adrian lurched forward with his hands wound tightly into fists, but he stopped himself, realizing that it might not be the best course of action right now. He should wait until the coast was clear to approach the boy.

So, he stayed put and watched the Ringmaster mutter something more to the boy in a voice that was too low for Adrian to hear. What followed completely caught Adrian off guard. He saw the worry in Jongin’s eyes harden into something furious. He nearly gasped when the boy spat on the Ringmaster’s face, snarling with a seething anger in his expression.

While the keeper gaped at them in the same state of shock Adrian was in, the Ringmaster wiped the spit from his cheek and smiled eerily enough to make Adrian’s blood run cold. The tiger was still prancing, trying to free itself from its leash.

“Perhaps you need a little more encouragement,” said the Ringmaster as he reached into his caravan before retrieving a long, thick wooden rod. It looked like a cane used to train horses. A whip could take the leather off any hide.

And that was when the horrifying reality registered to Adrian. His eyes shot to Jongin’s bared legs at once. Immediately, a raging anger jolted through Adrian’s bloodstreams and bubbled in his chest. He could not avert his wrathful glower from the bright, thick ribbons of red striping the back of Jongin’s trembling legs. The anger quickly turned into a nauseating sympathy. How could anyone do that to another person?

It was quite an ironic thought, Adrian realized. He was a soldier who put a blade through countless men without an ounce on sympathy. On the battlefield, things like sympathy could get a man killed. But when it came to the people he cared about, he could not bear to see any of them in pain. And he could tell Jongin was in pain from the way the boy was struggling to even stand straight. He looked as though his knees were about to buckle at any moment now.

“Tie him up to the post there,” the Ringmaster ordered the keeper, who instantly started tugging at the chain of Jongin’s ankle fetter. In that moment, terror and panic shot through the boy’s piteous face, but he looked determined not to beg the Ringmaster for mercy.

Adrian froze where he was standing, unable to believe that the Ringmaster would do something so barbaric. But then hadn’t he already?

“Won’t he wake the others up?” the keeper asked.

“He is a fucking mute,” said the Ringmaster. “The most noise he is going to be making is some little whimpers strung together.”

Adrian could not hold himself back any longer as he pulled away from the wagon and dropped the knapsack before he rushed toward the Ringmaster’s caravan.

Jongin cried quietly as he was dragged the flag pole near the caravan, not doing much to fight the keeper off.

“Breaking one of your knees ought to teach you freak a lesson,” spat the Ringmaster.

The tiger growled viciously then, springing up and down on its paws like a cat on hot bricks. It bared its fangs in the keeper’s way when he harshly pulled at Jongin and forced him toward the post.

Striding toward the Ringmaster, Adrian drew his sword. All heads turned to him then, including Jongin’s. The boy blinked his inflamed eyes, that were tinged with blood and tears, in disbelief before a splash of hope overtook his dreadful expression. He looked so relieved to see Adrian.

“Who the hell…” the Ringmaster began but was cut off when Adrian swung the sword before striking the chain that had the tiger leashed with every ounce of strength he had, recalling everything he had learnt about hammering a blade into shape on an anvil at his father’s forge.

The metal broke in half at once upon contact with the blade, unleashing the striped animal. Baashere did not stop to look back at Adrian as he sprung forward, charging at the keeper. The keeper gasped sharply in horror, dropping the fetter’s chain as the tiger vaulted off the ground before pouncing onto the man.

“No!” the Ringmaster yapped at the beast. “Baashere, you fucking pillock!” When he raised the cane toward the tiger, Adrian lunged at him. As his sword struck the cane, it shattered into pieces before it could even touch a strand of fur on the tiger’s coat.

With a growl, Adrian grabbed the Ringmaster’s neck with his free hand and slammed him back against the caravan.

“Wh-Who are you?” the man asked, his eyes brimming with fear.

As much as Adrian wanted to snap the bastard’s neck right then and there, he knew it would not be right. He had already committed too many treasons for one night.

Withdrawing the hand, he plunged a fist into the Ringmaster’s skull, knocking him unconscious before he took a dive to the ground.

He then quickly turned to Jongin, who was on the ground, gawking up at Adrian with stars in his watery eyes.

The tiger pulled away from the keeper once it had scared him enough to scamper away for his life. It then hurried over to Jongin’s side before giving the boy’s head a slight nudge with its own, as though it were offering Jongin solace.

Dropping to a crouch after sheathing his sword, Adrian carefully took hold of Jongin’s arm and said, “Can you stand?”

The boy gave a shaky nod, though he did not look very sure. Adrian worriedly curled an arm around the boy’s back and helped him up to his feet.

Jongin winced, leaning heavily against Adrian. He caught hold of Adrian’s shirt to steady himself.

A small broken whimper escaped his lips when Adrian unconsciously held a side of his waist a little too roughly. It had almost sounded like a kitten’s cry.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian muttered and eased his grip on Jongin’s waist. “Come on.”

As they wobblily staggered away as fast as they could, the tiger followed behind them after menacingly snarling at the unconscious Ringmaster on its way.

Then all of a sudden, Jongin grabbed the collar of Adrian’s shirt and tugged at it until a few laces came loose. He pointed to the wagon they unsteadily teetered past. It was his wagon.

“We should get out of here before they could get the scouts,” Adrian said, frowning.

Still, the boy tore away from him and started limping into the wagon. Huffing, Adrian hurriedly away momentarily to grab the knapsack he had left on the ground. Meanwhile, the tiger skipped after him.

Jumping with a start, he stared at Baashere for a moment. “Thanks, buddy,” he said at length, holding out a nervous hand. He froze when the tiger flinched back slightly, but then it came forth once more to sniff Adrian’s hand. “Baashere.”

The tiger blinked its amber eyes at Adrian and almost rubbed its head against Adrian’s palm, but it abruptly turned around to look at Jongin, who was waddling out of the wagon with nothing.

Confused, Adrian rushed back to the boy’s side. “I thought you had to get something.”

Jongin unwrapped one of his hands to reveal the badge Adrian had given him.

Though Adrian’s breath had caught in his throat in that moment, he could not help the smile that quirked up the corners of his lips.

“Let’s get going,” he said, looking over to the Ringmaster, who was fortunately still conked out on the ground. But the keeper might return with reinforcements. Adrian was not even sure if they would be able to get all that far before the men from the circus would catch up to them.

When he hooked an arm around Jongin’s waist again, he did not dillydally any longer and started ushering the boy toward the roads near the fringes of the village.

Jongin kept glancing over their shoulders as they made their way away from the circus and the village, and for Adrian, he was wandering much further away from the encampment. But at the moment, his fate and future were the furthest thing from his worries. He needed to get the boy away from here first. It was all that mattered now. He could never let Jongin stay in the circus after what he had just witnessed.

Adrian only stopped again when Jongin took hold of the sleeve of his shirt and started clutching at it tightly as his sluggish steps faltered.

“Are you all right?” Adrian asked, but the boy was not looking at him. Noticing the distress in Jongin’s pained expression, Adrian quickly ushered him into a dark alley that stood between the straggles of cottages. He then leaned the boy against the wall before he looked around to make sure that they were not being followed. They were not, except for the tiger.

Panting hard, he then looked back at the boy, brows drawing together. Jongin looked like he might crumble to the ground at any moment.

“Does it hurt too much?” asked Adrian, putting a hand on a side of the boy’s face.

Jongin clenched his eyes then, calming down a little as he pressed his cheek harder against Adrian’s palm. As tempting as it was for Adrian to stay this way with the boy, with his hand cupping the soft cheek that was damp with half-dried tears, he knew that he could not.

“Do your legs hurt bad?” Adrian asked, but Jongin continued to keep his eyes shut as he caught his breath quietly. Then retrieving his hand, Adrian took a step back and dropped to one knee to examine the boy’s flogged legs.

As he slid a hand around the back of Jongin’s thigh close to the knee, the boy gasped, eyes flinging open, before he backhanded Adrian in the face.

Adrian blinked, shocked and unsure of what had warranted him that slap. He withdrew his hand from Jongin’s bare leg and looked up at the boy, who had his hands clasped to his mouth, his eyes bulged out with guilt.

Rising back to his feet, Adrian held his hands up, frowning. “Sorry. It was my fault. I touched you without…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. The boy blushed in spite of everything, lowering his hands from his face. Sighing, Adrian peered down the street. He could hear a commotion from the circus. The scouts must have been alerted.

He then looked down at the tiger.

“You can’t go with us,” Adrian told him. “Walking around with a tiger would attract too much attention.”

Baashere gawked at him with wide, pleading eyes as he sat down, tail swaying behind him. If he could talk, Adrian was sure that the tiger would have begged.

“Run along now,” said Adrian, lifting a hand to shoo the tiger away. Jongin grabbed the hand then and stared at Adrian with a look that weakened Adrian’s knees. The boy then shyly shook his head, as though to say that he did not want the tiger to go away.

Adrian did not have the heart to refuse Jongin. Or the damn tiger. So, he sighed and picked up his knapsack again.

“I’m going to hold you so that you do not put too much pressure on your legs,” Adrian said. “So, please, do not hit me again.”

Jongin hung his head for a moment, looking embarrassed. He then nodded, voluntarily draping an arm around Adrian’s neck so that the man could grab onto his waist.

“The eastern roads are not far. If we walk down the sand road that stretches out from the village,” Adrian said, mostly to himself, since the boy was not looking up at him anymore. “we should be able to find a ride out of here.”

They were closer to the borders. Merchants, traders and travellers would be frequenting the roads around these parts. He just hoped that he would not be worrying the boy’s bruised legs too much.

As they tottered out of the alley and onto the streets of the village, Adrian glanced back a few times. The scouts from the circus were scuttling about, breaking the silence of the night. Baashere also kept a watch on their flanks, constantly looking out for the scouts.

At one point, Adrian gently touched Jongin’s chin with two fingers and held it up so that the boy would be looking at him. He frowned at how tired Jongin looked.

“If it does not discomfort you too much,” Adrian said carefully, not wanting to overstep and offend the boy. “I do not mind carrying you for the better part of the distance.”

Jongin lowered his eyes again and drowsily leaned his head against Adrian’s shoulder. Adrian was not sure if that was a ‘go-ahead’ or a ‘don’t’. He decided not to push his luck. They should just focus on getting out of this village.

And then the boy withdrew his arm from Adrian before he stood up straighter. With a wince in his face, which paled even more, he tried to walk on his own, not wanting to give Adrian any trouble. When they reached the end of the street, he pointed to the fence that bordered the village. Adrian nodded.

“Here!” a voice cried out of nowhere. “They are—”

Adrian spun around and slapped one hand over the scout’s hand before clutching at the man’s neck with the other. He then rammed the back of the scout’s head against the wall of a cottage. As the scout dropped to the ground, Adrian grabbed Jongin’s arm and started jogging toward the fence.

The tiger quietly scurried after them as they made their way to the fence. Upon reaching it, Baashere immediately hopped over it before he looked back at Adrian and Jongin with a proud look.

Standing behind the boy, Adrian placed his hands on the sides of Jongin’s waist and helped him climb the fence. He was so light that Adrian was sure that the boy was made of nothing but a few small bones and some flimsy skin. And as he clambered up the fence, Adrian was able to see the cane marks on the back of the boy’s legs much more clearly now. Both anger and woe shot through him, forming a thick lump in his parched throat.

As soon as Jongin had safely landed on the other side of the fence, Adrian hastily vaulted over it and took hold of the boy’s arm again.

“Come on,” he said, dragging Jongin toward the sand road. “Let’s get out of here before they catch up to us.”

* * *

# C H A P T E R F I V E

The night was reluctant in letting go of its darkness. Adrian was not sure how many hours had passed or how many they had left before the break of day. But it felt as though they had been walking down the road forever. When he looked behind them, the village and the military encampment had receded from his view, and no one was tailing them, which was a good thing. He figured that they should have gotten much farther before dawn.

In spite of being in pain, Jongin had not stopped for a respite, and he tried to keep up with both Adrian and the runaway tiger. However, he eventually reached the peak of his exhaustion and dropped to a seat on a side of the road. He had not tried to converse with Adrian ever since they had left the village. In fact, he seemed quite dazed and lost in his thoughts. Adrian wondered if the boy were having second thoughts. Certainly, he could not think that staying in the circus and tolerating the Ringmaster’s mistreatment would be better than this.

Letting out a heavy breath, Adrian looked around the desert. For as far as his vision could stretch in the dark of the night, he saw nothing but a vast expanse of sand, rocks, critters and a few forbidding desert plants. There had to be something not too far from here, he supposed. The village could not be the only civilization on the entire radius of the desert.

He looked at the boy again. Jongin had his head dropped low, his breathing slow and ragged. He kept touching his legs and wincing.

Swallowing hard, Adrian approached him and went to his knees. “You are not… regretting this, are you?” he asked. Jongin was not looking at him. With a frustrated sigh, Adrian lifted the boy’s chin. “Are you regretting this?” he asked again.

Jongin looked at him sadly. It almost looked like… guilt.

“Are you… worried about… me?” Adrian asked.

The boy nodded his head.

Adrian withdrew his hand and exhaled heavily again. “You don’t have to worry about me, all right? I can handle… I can handle my problems. Right now, I just want to get you to a safe place.”

The guilt in Jongin’s eyes tripled.

“We should have a look at your legs,” Adrian then said. He removed the knapsack before retrieving a waterskin. “Here. Drink this.”

The boy did not refuse the water. He must have been quite parched because he downed the water without stopping for a breath. Meanwhile, Adrian gently cupped the heel of Jongin’s leg to lift it. He had no idea how the boy could walk everywhere with bare feet and not get a single blister on them. He must be used to running around without any footwear.

“You don’t wear any shoes?” Adrian asked, craning his head up to look at the boy. His throat tightened as he saw a bead of water dribble down a corner of Jongin’s pink, full lips. The desert stars glinted against the thin sheen of water that resided on the boy’s plump bottom lip. Adrian cleared his throat when he realized that he was staring.

Jongin shook his head. Adrian wondered if his eyes were fooling him when he saw a hint of smile on the boy’s lips. He was not smiling at Adrian, but at a distant yet fond memory. People only ever smiled like that when they reminisced about either a lover or their home.

“Home?” Adrian asked. “Are you thinking of home?”

He was not sure why he did not even entertain the idea of Jongin having a lover. Perhaps he simply did not want to. Just the thought of the possibility of someone else owning the boy’s heart galled him.

The smile faltered as a deep frown scrunched up his forehead. He bowed his head so low that Adrian was no longer able to see his eyes. It had to be home, then.

Baashere settled near them and watched them sleepily. He then took the broken chain of his leash and held it between his teeth, as though he wanted Adrian to do something about it and the collar around his neck.

That had Adrian looking to the fetter around Jongin’s ankle. If he could get a hold of the right tools, he could try and unlatch it. He was trained by a very skilful smithy after all. Its weight could not be making it any easier for the boy to walk.

Returning his attention to the wounds on Jongin’s legs, he carefully held the heel again before lifting the foot from the ground. Jongin gasped in a breath and brought a hand to Adrian’s shoulder to grip his shirt when Adrian ran his fingers up the back of his leg.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian whispered, heart breaking as he felt the swollen hot stripes of bruises throb under his fingers. There were also dried-up scars that were days old, some were weeks old. “Why… did he do this to you?”

Jongin’s grip on his shirt relaxed. He did not answer. Perhaps he wanted to answer, but there was no way that he could make Adrian understand with just a few shakes of his head or hand gestures. So, he took his hand back and wrapped it around Adrian’s wrist before gently pulling it away from his leg.

He drowsily shook his head then, looking a little embarrassed. Handing Adrian the waterskin back, he tried to push himself back up. Adrian rose with him, fighting the urge to put his arm around the boy once again.

Jongin raised his head and gazed into his eyes for a moment. He glanced in the way of the village before looking back to Adrian. Licking his lips, he lightly prodded a finger into Adrian’s chest. Then he pointed toward the village. Or perhaps he was directing Adrian toward the encampment. Next, he pointed the finger to his own chest and then to Baashere before pointing it down the road in the opposite direction.

Adrian loured at him exasperatedly as he caught the boy’s pointing finger. “I am not going back. I did not go to all that trouble just so that I can leave you,” he spat. Jongin looked surprised.

Then frowning, the boy looked at Adrian’s sword meaningfully.

“I know what I’m getting myself into,” Adrian told him determinedly. “I told you. I can handle my problems.”

Jongin did not object any further, though he did not look all too overjoyed by the prospect of Adrian risking any more than he already had for him. But he looked touched and moved all the same.

“We should walk a bit more,” Adrian then said. Jongin nodded. The night had been incredibly long, and it was yet to concede defeat.

Baashere leaped back onto his feet and dogtrotted after them as they started walking again. Though the boy stayed close to Adrian, they were not touching. Just breathing the same air as Jongin was enough to pump Adrian’s blood. He kept glimpsing and side-eyeing Jongin’s hand, wondering if he would be offending the boy after the rough night they had had if he held his hand now.

In spite of the discomfort he was clearly in, Jongin gazed up at the sky and smiled, inhaling sharply. He looked strangely content for a fleeting moment. It must be the first time in a while since he had been this free. And the smile ominously died on the boy’s lips as he dropped his head. Adrian was not sure what ran Jongin’s mind all of a sudden, but the sibyl did not smile after that, though he slid a little closer to Adrian’s side.

“Where is your home?” Adrian asked, deliberately touching the boy’s arm with his own to get his attention, after a while, breaking the harmonious silent that was hanging between them.

Jongin looked up at him with a bewildered blink.

“I will get you home,” said Adrian, not wanting to make it sound too much like a promise. He was not sure if he would actually be able to get Jongin back home if it were way out of reach.

The boy shook his head as a way of saying that he could not go back home. Adrian frowned at him. “Don’t you want to go home?” he asked.

Jongin nodded, but he continued to look sad. Then he gestured around him before shrugging. Adrian tried to decipher what that meant, but he could not comprehend what the boy was trying to say.

“Wait a second.” Stopping, Adrian quickly rummaged through his knapsack and pulled out a slab of broken charcoal and a piece of torn parchment. “Why don’t you write it down?” He grinned. He should have thought of this earlier.

The sadness in Jongin’s eyes deepened, and he looked away, almost embarrassedly. He rubbed an elbow with a hand, chewing on his lower lip.

Adrian waited for a few minutes, but the boy did not take the charcoal from his hands.

“What is the matter?” asked Adrian.

Jongin glanced at the parchment and charcoal before he raised his eyes again to meet Adrian’s with a slight shake of his head. He looked so ashamed and worried.

Then it hit Adrian.

“You can’t… write,” he muttered. “or read, can you?

The boy clenched his hands into tight fists at his sides. His tired eyes were suddenly so limpid that Adrian thought that he might cry. But then, Jongin turned around and briskly walked away, as though he were worried that Adrian might make fun of him and demean him.

When Adrian looked down at Baashere, the tiger fixed him with a disappointed look before it went after Jongin. Adrian shook his head and huffed out a breath.

Stuffing the things back into the knapsack, he hurried after the boy.

“I had no idea,” he said. “It is not a bad thing.”

He tried to smile, but Jongin only looked back at him with a lour. Adrian scratched the back of his head.

“Actually, I’m more curious about your now,” he then added. “Who… are you? How do you have these powers? Why do you eyes change colour? Did you know that they change colour? Where are you from? How did you end up in the circus?”

He stopped himself when he realized Jongin was blushing at his questions. The boy lifted a finger and lightly poked it into Adrian’s arm.

“Me?” said Adrian. Jongin nodded. “You want to know about… me?”

The boy blushed again.

Adrian licked his smiling lips. He rarely talked about himself to anyone. Most of the time, he just listened to what others had to say.

He hoped that he was not blushing, too. “Well, I come from this town near the—”

He cut himself off when he heard wagon wheels and horse hooves clattering against the rocks on the sandy road behind him, heading his way.

“Stop!” he hollered at once, flailing his arms in the air to get the driver’s attention. He moved to stand in the middle of the road, so that he could block the wagon in case the driver did not notice him. “Stop!”

The horse-drawn wagon came to a halt before its driver angrily spat, “Get out of the way, you moron!”

Adrian ignored the insult lobbed at him and hurried over to the driver. “We need a ride,” he panted.

“To where?” asked the man gruffly in a thick accent. He must be a trader from the neighbouring country.

“To anywhere from here,” said Adrian. “Where is this wagon going?”

“Far off to the east.”

“We will get off on the way. Please.”

Scowling, the driver said, “No. Now, get out of my way. I have places to be, and I’m short of time!”

The mare whinnied and rose to her hindlegs, spooked by Baashere who went too close to her, looking at her curiously. Jumping with a start as the tawny mare neighed, the tiger scurried away, blinking confusedly at the brown beast that was significantly larger than him.

“I-Is that… a tiger?” rasped the driver, nearly having lost his voice, his eyes ballooned, his fingers around the reins of the mare shaking.

Adrian pinned Baashere a sidelong glance before he crossed his arms and faced the driver again. “Oh, yes. And he is… very hungry,” he said with a smirk. “Your horse here looks quite plump and delicious. And… so do you.”

The driver gulped. He looked conflicted for a moment. Then sighing heavily, he said, “Fine. You can sit in the back, but do not touch any of the merchandise!”

Grinning, Adrian beckoned to Jongin, who was standing there with a puzzled look on his face. “Come on. He is giving us a ride.”

“Is the tiger coming along?!” yapped the driver.

“Yes. He is… a pet.”

The driver shuddered as the tiger strode past the mare, almost batting his eyes at the beautiful mare, which nickered at him annoyedly.

The wagon was packed with crates of all sizes. Adrian was not sure if he and Baashere could fit in there, but someone as lean as Jongin should have no trouble slipping in between those crates.

Even so, Baashere was the first to jump onto the wagon. Adrian turned to Jongin next, hoping that the boy would need some help climbing into the wagon, so that Adrian would have an excuse to touch him again.

God, what a degenerate Adrian had become overnight…

Grabbing onto a side of the wagon, Jongin managed to get in without any other help. Once Adrian had also climbed in, struggling to keep his head from banging against the roof of the wagon, the driver reined the mare to move forward.

“You better not let that tiger of yours mess around my things back there!” the man groused, though there was a small tremor in his voice.

Baashere was already poking around the crates, sniffing hard. Adrian seated himself in a tiny corner, making himself as small as he could to fit. Then as the wagon rocked, Jongin veered forward on his knees and crashed against Adrian’s chest.

Adrian’s arms immediately came around the boy’s slender frame, hands pressed the small of his back. Jongin held onto Adrian’s shoulders and stared into the man’s eyes, his breath grazing Adrian’s face.

The tender moment made the rest of the world around them slip away. Part of Adrian wanted to pull the boy closer and press their lips as well as their bodies together. He wondered if the same lewd thoughts were running in Jongin’s mind.

And then Baashere caught the hem of Jongin’s tunic between his teeth and started yanking Jongin back and away from Adrian.

As though he had snapped out of a trance, the boy pulled away from Adrian and plumped down on the other end of the wagon.

Adrian flinched back when Baashere confronted him, their faces almost touching. He bared his fangs at Adrian, as if to warn him to keep his hands to himself. Behind the tiger, Adrian saw Jongin smile bashfully, lowering his head. With one final snarl, Baashere withdrew and wended his way back to Jongin before he settled down, resting his head on the boy’s lap. He growled softly, nudging his head against Jongin’s hand. Then as the boy began to stroke the tiger’s head between his ears, Baashere slowly drifted off, his tail swinging from side to side lazily.

“Where are you from?” the driver asked, trying to sound as annoyed as possible. Adrian looked at the back of the man’s head through the window of the wagon. “And why do you have a pet tiger?”

He then gasped.

“Wait a moment!” He turned his head around and shot Adrian a horrified look. “Are you perhaps royalty?! Only princes and kings have tigers for pets!”

Adrian shrugged. “I like to think that I’m a prince at heart.”

The driver glared at him. “So, you’re a commoner. Who is the boy? Your brother?”

Adrian gripped his jaw. “Thank you for the favour.”

“Favour?” he scoffed. “You better pay with whatever valuables you have, or I’m taking the tiger’s skin!”

“You are welcome to try.”

The driver looked away again, mumbling something under his breath. When Adrian glanced back to Jongin, the boy was asleep, head settled on Baashere’s back, arm draped over the beast’s body.

No matter how friendly the tiger might be, it was still a tiger, and Adrian would never be able to fall asleep hugging one. Jongin clearly loved Baashere as much as the tiger, as odd as it sounded, cared for the boy. What a strange duo, Adrian thought. But he had seen stranger things, he supposed.

With his arms crossed over his chest, he leaned back against the wagon and closed his eyes.

* * *

Something had woken him up. His head was rested on something soft and warm. But the rest of his body was lying on a hard, cold platform, that was not all that worse compared to his pallet.

As much as he wanted to open his eyes and find out what had awakened him, Jongin hesitated. What if everything that had happened was just a dream? What if he had not run away from the Ringmaster and the circus? What if he was not free? What if… Adrian was not there when he opened his eyes?

And then he felt a set of rough digits gently wrap around the heel of his foot. Those same fingers were trying to pull the fetter from his ankle.

When his eyes finally fluttered open, he saw patches of faint light on the blanket of black and orange. His head slowly rose and fell with Baashere’s belly on which he was lying on. Squinting at the brightness, he drowsily looked to the man crouched over him, hands busying themselves around the shackle on Jongin’s ankle.

He shot upright then and pulled his foot away from the man, hugging his legs to his chest.

Adrian looked up at him with surprise. “Did I wake you?” he asked, frowning. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to get that thing off of you.”

Jongin briefly glanced to the collar and chain that were lying on the ground of the wagon before he realized that Baashere was not wearing his collar anymore. Adrian must have rid the tiger of the wretched thing before he started working on Jongin’s ankle fetter.

“I just found these with the crates,” the man said, holding up some nails. “I get the shackle to unlock if you stay still for a while.”

Jongin swallowed and slid his foot back to Adrian. He wanted to be completely free like Baashere, too.

Sweet lord, Adrian was the kindest man alive. Sometimes, Jongin even wondered if the man were real at all. He was everything and more. He was so good to Jongin, even when the latter had done absolutely nothing for him to warrant such kindness. And to think that Adrian had gone to all that trouble last night to get Jongin out of the…

Jongin’s chest grew all warm and fuzzy when he thought of how Adrian had saved him the previous night from the wicked Ringmaster. If he had not come there at the right time, Jongin knew that his fate would have turned out to be much crueller.

Adrian sat down and brought Jongin’s fettered foot to his lap. Jongin tried not to let his face turn all hot and red.

His heart was beating so fast that it made breathing difficult. He looked away at an attempt to distract himself.

Sure, the man was handsome. The most handsome man Jongin had ever met. He was tall and brooding, incredibly muscled and had big, strong hands. He also had good hair.

But it was his kind heart and all the gentle things that he kept doing for Jongin that had Jongin’s stomach twisting and turning nervously.

Was it wrong to feel this way about a man?

Did Adrian feel this way for him? Was that why he had given Jongin his badge? Was that why he had helped Jongin get out of there? Jongin wished that he could ask. But even if he could talk, he would never be able to muster the courage to ask another man if he harboured such strange feelings for him.

What if Jongin had misread the man’s actions? What if he mistook his kindness for… love?

Oh…

What if… Adrian loved another?

The wagon was still moving. The crisp morning air was the freshest Jongin had breathed in weeks. The farther they moved from the desert, the lighter the wind was. Jongin wondered where they were, but he did not know much about places. He had been to many places with the circus, but he was not clever enough to know any of them by their names or locations.

He was certain that Adrian did, though. He was a wise man, even for a soldier. He was certainly smarter than Jongin was. He could write, he could read. He could wield a sword so masterfully. He was also good with words, as he had managed to convince the driver of the wagon to give them a lift. He was also good-looking and strong. And from the way he worked with the ankle fetter, he must also be quite skilled at working with tools.

Compared to him, Jongin was truly nothing but a freak.

It would not be long before Adrian would realize that his efforts and kindness were wasted on someone like Jongin.

“There!” Adrian gasped excitedly when the fetter came loose around Jongin’s ankle.

With eyes popping out, Jongin leaned forward and gaped at his freed leg. As Adrian removed the shackle, Jongin pulled his foot back and stared at it for a moment. It felt odd without the weight of the fetter after years of wearing one. But his heart pounding uncontrollably as he realized that he was completely liberated now.

He could run as fast as his feet would take him again with nothing holding him back. Well, once his legs had healed that was.

He looked up at Adrian gratefully, wondering how to thank the man properly. Shifting his legs to a side, he placed a hand on Adrian’s and waited to see if the man would react.

Adrian only stared at Jongin’s hand, almost hungrily, with his jaw slack.

Then as Jongin’s stomach grumbled, he clasped an arm over it.

Adrian smiled. “I’m hungry, too,” he said. Then turning away, he pounded his fist against the wagon wall to get the driver’s attention. “Do you got anything to eat?”

“You hustled me to giving you a ride, and now you demand food from me?!” growled the driver, looking back at them. “I will not be giving you a single morsel!”

When Adrian glanced back to Jongin, he looked surprised. “Your eyes,” he said. “They just changed to green for a moment there.”

Jongin was reading the driver’s soul. He was a good man, albeit a bit of a grouch, but his soul had no moral stains on them. He was a father to four children and had a loving wife waiting for him at home. His name was Earl.

“Can he be trusted?” Adrian asked when he understood that Jongin had seen the man’s soul.

Jongin gave Adrian a nod of his head and a reassuring smile. But he could never tell for sure. The future of a soul could only be predicted to some extent. Certain circumstances had the power to completely change a soul. For instance, when he first met the Ringmaster and joined the circus, he had not foreseen the evil and greed that would bleed into the Ringmaster’s soul eventually. Perhaps Earl might also turn out to be an evil man if he had a great opportunity at his reach.

“The boy is hungry,” said Adrian. “Do you have nothing to spare for him?”

The driver did not answer. Or he did, but he was not looking at them anymore. A moment later, he tossed a small satchel back. Picking it up, Adrian looked at its content before pulling out a carrot. He handed it to Jongin.

Accepting it, Jongin held it with both hands before he sank his teeth into the hard flesh. Adrian then held out another to Baashere, who sniffed it and turned his face away, disgusted.

Adrian sighed. “I hate to say this,” he said. “But he is going to eat the horse.”

Jongin gasped lightly with his mouth full of chewed carrots. He looked at Baashere and shook his head. He did not think that the Baashere would actually eat the beautiful mare, but he also figured that he was an animal after all, and he would go hungry and feral if he was not fed.

They would have to stop and find something for Baashere to eat soon.

Slumping back against the wall, Adrian bit off a large chunk of carrot and ate it tiredly. Jongin knew then that like Baashere, a man like Adrian would not be able to survive on carrots for long either.

“Thanks,” Adrian told the driver. He then frowned when the driver replied. “No.”

The driver looked back at him. “What are you doing with that sword, then?”

“I’m a… smithy. I’m not a soldier.” The next part seemed like a whisper that no one was supposed to hear, but Jongin read Adrian’s frowning lips all the same. “Not anymore.”

Adrian looked upset as he said it, rubbing his temples.

Jongin chewed another small bit of the carrot, hanging his head.

When he saw Adrian smile again, Jongin’s head perked up in curiosity.

“Do you hear that?” Adrian asked him before his smile immediately faltered. “Sorry, I forgot that you can’t… Uh…”

Jongin smiled at him.

Adrian’s smile returned to his lips. He looked even more handsome when he smiled. “The birds. I can hear some chirping. I haven’t heard that sound in ages.”

In that moment, Jongin remembered his mother putting his hand on her chest as she told him that the beat of a bird’s wings felt like her heartbeat. Jongin was not sure why he wanted to share that thought with Adrian, but he stayed put.

When Jongin peered out through the window, he saw trees. Green, thick copses of trees on either side of the road. He was reminded of the woods he and his small family used to live in. He did not even know if his mother and father were alive anymore.

The thought made his eyes water, a miserable sob forming in his throat. Even if he wanted to get back to them, he was not sure how he could do that. Who would he ask the way back home? He was lost. He had been lost for so many years.

Perhaps his parents had mourned him and moved on. Perhaps they had made their peace with having lost their only son.

Where did that leave Jongin?

Alone.

He wiped the tear that rolled down his cheek, but not before Adrian had managed to notice it.

“Jongin?” Adrian called, pulling away from his seat and approaching Jongin. “Are you all right?”

Jongin shook his head. He missed his parents. He missed home. But there was no way for him to go back. And when Adrian decided to leave too, Jongin would truly be left stranded.

He had tried to live on his own before. He had wanted the independence so bad. So bad that he had not considered the fact that he was just being naïve.

Naively thinking that no one would take advantage of his disability and gifts for augury was what had got him trapped in that circus for years.

He wanted to go home, where he would be safe again.

As he broke into a sob, Adrian helplessly gawked at him for a minute before he enveloped his arms around Jongin’s quaking body. Jongin let himself fall against the man’s chest, where he buried his face and sobbed into his shirt.

Jongin did not know what Adrian was saying, but his lips brushed Jongin’s ear as his breath warmed his cheek. His hands on Jongin’s back were trying to comfort him, though they were nervous.

Pulling back, Adrian then cupped Jongin’s face in his hands. “I will protect you,” he said firmly. “Okay? I am not going to let anything happen to you. I’m sorry I did not find you sooner. I’m sorry we did not find each other sooner. But I am here now. Unless… I’m the one who is causing these tears.” He gently wiped the tears from Jongin’s cheeks with his thumbs.

Jongin shook his head before he leaned it against the man’s chest once more. Slowly, he stopped crying, feeling the pace of Adrian’s heartbeat against a side of his face.

The beat of a bird’s wings probably felt like that, too.

* * *

Adrian was not sure when they had fallen asleep again, but he woke up, the scorching sun was at its highest peak in the sky, bathing all that bided the ground with its blistering heat. Sitting up, he glanced over to Jongin, who was curled up with the tiger on the other end, both fast asleep.

How could someone be so beautiful, Adrian wondered for the nth time, watching the boy sleep so serenely. He must be so worn out. When he had broken into tears earlier, it had nearly shattered Adrian’s heart. What could have possibly caused that sudden pain?

Scratching his beard, Adrian looked out the wagon and was surprised to see buildings in his eyeline. They were not big or tall. Cottages perhaps.

“Where are we?” he asked the driver.

“So nice of you to finally wake up after jostling my crates and exhausting my supply of resources!” grumbled the man. “What is your name?”

“Adrian. What’s yours?”

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

“Well, That’s-None-Of-Your-Fucking-Business, thank you for your hospitality. Is there any way that I can return it?”

“Yes, there is,” the man spat immediately.

They were heading into a town, much to Adrian’s delight. He doubted that it was a town he had been to, but at least he would soon be able to stretch his legs and back after so many hours of sitting in this cramped wagon.

As soon as the driver reined the mare to a halt and the wagon came to a standstill, Adrian climbed out of it and stretched his arms over his head before holding them to the back of it as he glanced around.

The town was bustling with men, women, children, carts, scabby dogs, grungy cats, and was too noisy to even hear one’s own thoughts. And something smelled so good.

The sweet scent of freshly baked breads wafted in the air, making Adrian’s stomach hurt with hunger. When he turned back to the wagon, Baashere was already springing up to his feet.

“Ah, no, no, no,” Adrian stopped the tiger before it could jump out of the wagon. “You stay here.” He pointed a finger at the beast, ordering him to stay put. “We don’t want these townspeople to freak out.”

Jongin had also roused and was now rubbing his eyes sleepily. Adrian held out a hand to him to help him get down.

Taking the hand, the boy let himself be pulled out of the wagon. He then turned to Baashere and shook his head meaningfully, patting the tiger’s head.

“We will get him something to eat,” said Adrian as he shut the wagon’s door.

Once the mare was properly hitched to a pole, the driver approached Adrian with a mean snarl on his lip, which quickly died as he mustered Adrian.

“Wow,” he let out as though in awe. “You look… much bigger in daylight.”

Then clearing his throat, he turned to Jongin. He briefly looked down at Jongin’s bare legs and grimaced.

“Why are you not wearing any pants, boy?” he asked. “Is that a thing from where you come from?”

Jongin grabbed onto the sleeve of Adrian’s shirt and shyly moved to hide himself behind Adrian.

“I could use your help,” said the driver. “to lift some of these crates.”

“Of course. It is the least I can do after you have helped us greatly” said Adrian, handing the knapsack over to Jongin.

“Whatever.” The man rolled his eyes.

While he and the driver started unloading the wagon, Jongin stood close to Adrian, constantly glancing at the passers-by who were leering at him and his naked thighs. He tried to cover them with the knapsack, face and ears turning into a deep shade of pink.

“You are so strong,” remarked the driver as Adrian easily lifted one of the crates and started for the nearby shop the other man was walking towards, bearing a much smaller crate with difficulty. It actually looked the back of a shop. The smell of cheap ale and roasted potatoes was heavy in the air.

“Years of working the forge,” Adrian grunted. It was not a lie either. Most days, along with his father, he was covered in soot, grease and sweat.

He glanced back at Jongin, who was looking at him worriedly, even though they had less than ten feet separating them.

Setting the crates down on the ground, the driver rapped on the door of the shop before a woman appeared, fanning herself with a piece of folded parchment.

“Alyssa!” exclaimed the driver.

“Earl,” she said dully, wiping the sweat from her forehead on the back of her hand. “You are late.”

“Well, I had some hiccups along the way. In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a war on the border,” said the man, whose name was apparently Earl.

Alyssa rolled her eyes before they darted to Adrian. “Who is this?” she asked, arching her brows.

“A dirty hitchhiker,” said Earl.

“Impressive,” she said. “If you are not in a hurry to be somewhere, I could use those big arms of yours to lift these crates to the back. Of course, I will pay generously for your service.”

Adrian smiled and bowed his head. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Oh, call me Alyssa, darling.”

Earl groaned. “You are so transparent, woman,” he commented.

“Just get to work if you want the money for your goods,” she spat and stopped, glancing over Earl’s shoulder. “And who might the young boy with no trousers be?”

“He is my… companion,” said Adrian. “We are travelling together.”

“He looks tired. Why don’t I keep him company while you men do your work?” she offered with a smile. “I can give him something to eat.”

Adrian bowed his head once more. “I would be immensely grateful.”

As she walked back into the building, Adrian returned to Jongin.

“You should go inside. The lady who owns the place has offered to keep you company,” he told Jongin.

Immediately, the boy’s face paled in terror. He shook his head and started retreating from Adrian.

For a moment, Adrian did not understand what had spooked the boy so much that he looked like he was about run away.

He caught Jongin’s wrist before he could pull away any farther. “I don’t think she means any harm,” he said, frowning.

Jongin still looked worried. Then Adrian comprehended the situation.

His hand loosened around the boy’s wrist and dropped to hold his hand. “Trust me. I won’t let anyone to do anything to you,” he promised Jongin.

At length, Jongin nodded his head. He gave Adrian’s hand a light squeeze before he wended his way into the shop.

“I’d be careful around Alyssa if I were you,” said Earl a little later as Adrian picked up more crates from the wagon.

“What?”

“She can get a little handsy with men as… nice-lookin’ as you.”

Adrian smirked. “All women do.”

Earl scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Did not peg you for a cocky one. But I suppose you would not refuse an offer like that if she came onto you.”

Earl was wrong there. Adrian might not have turned it down before he had met Jongin, but now, there was only one pair of lips he wanted to taste.

By the time he had taken all of the crates out to the outbuilding, he was drenched in sweat. Then as he made his way into the shop, he realized that it was in fact an inn.

The lunch scene at an inn was never as crowded as it always was in the evening. He was able to find Jongin seated in a corner of the inn, biting into a piece of pheasant meat.

When he sat down, the boy looked up at him and smiled. He then pushed the tray of food over to Adrian.

“You saved some for me?” he asked, smiling back. Jongin nodded and blushed. “I’m touched. Thank you.”

He inspected the content of the food tray and found most of it untouched. There were salted olives, slices of anchovy bread, some roasted pheasant meat along with candied pear and lettuce wraps.

The smell that filled his nose made Adrian’s mouth water at once. He could not remember the last time he had had something this good. It was always potato gruel, broth and, if they were lucky, chicken soup in the army.

He looked up at Jongin, who was holding a small strip of pheasant meat in his hands, sinking a shy bite into it.

“You should eat more,” Adrian said, sliding the tray back to the boy.

Shaking his head, Jongin pushed it back, insisting that Adrian eat it all. But then pausing for a second, he reached to grab handful of the pheasant meat from the tray. Adrian blinked at him as he rose from his seat and pointed to the door.

“Oh, Baashere. You’re taking it to him,” Adrian said. Jongin nodded before he hurriedly wended his way out of the inn.

“Looking for something to drink?” the innkeeper asked, slamming a tankard onto the table. Adrian glanced up at her and smiled.

“You know exactly what I want, huh,” he said.

Alyssa simpered back, plumping into one of the chairs, still fanning herself. “It’s all on the house. We’re all out of butter, unfortunately.

“That’s all right,” said Adrian as he tossed a clove of roasted garlic into his mouth. The soft, strongly scented flesh melted on his tongue. He then picked up the tankard and took a good whiff of the dark beer.

Downing half of it, he exhaled a heavy, gratified breath.

“That hits the spot,” he let out, grinning wide.

“I know what men like you like,” said Alyssa with a wink.

“Bring me your finest ale, will you?” said Earl when he joined them at the table, slumping in a chair tiredly.

Alyssa huffed before she rose from the table and went away to get the trader his drink. When she returned, she was holding a tankard in one hand and a few coins in the other.

“Here,” she said, placing them both on the table. “Your remuneration.”

Adrian blinked. “You have remunerated me enough with this food and this beer.”

“Those were just a nice gesture,” she said, sinking back in her seat. “So, where are you off to? And why are you travelling with this miser?”

Earl snorted.

Adrian took another sip of the beer before he said, “We are just… trying to get away.”

“You and the boy?” asked the woman, cocking a brow. And as though on cue, Jongin walked back into the inn. He slowly made his way to Adrian and sat down beside him, keeping his head down. Alyssa pinned them with an odd look then. “He is a shy one, isn’t he?”

“He can’t speak,” said Adrian. “Or hear.”

Both Alyssa and Earl gawked at Jongin stupidly for a while. “Oh, my,” Alyssa breathed out. “You poor thing.”

Adrian froze when Jongin put a hand on his thigh, fingers clenching around Adrian’s trousers. Then glancing to the boy, Adrian took a candied pear from his tray and pressed it into Jongin’s hand. The boy’s cheeks reddened as he brought it to his lips and took a bite of the piece of sugary pear.

“You two should spend the night here,” Alyssa offered, still looking at Jongin pitifully.

“Oh, we cannot possibly impose,” said Adrian. “You have already done plenty.”

“Well, you don’t have to take it for free. I have some drums of ale at the back that need to be moved. If you could help me with them, I will give you a night or two to stay in one of the rooms here.”

It sounded like a great offer, Adrian would not lie. His back would certainly appreciate a mattress to rest on. “Would you like spend the night here?” he asked Jongin.

The boy took a moment to answer. When he did, he gave Adrian a tiny shrug of his shoulders before he took another bite of the pear. He kept his eyes down at all times, probably to make sure that the other two did not notice the way his eyes changed colour.

“What about you?” Alyssa asked, turning to Earl. “Are you staying the night?”

Earl downed the ale before muttering, “Give me your biggest room. And you.” He pointed a finger at Adrian. “Do something about your tiger.”

“What tiger?” asked Alyssa, but Earl did not say anything more as he demanded more ale by tapping the tankard on the table.

When Jongin had finished the candied pear, he eyed the last on the tray and shyly pointed at it, eyes lifting to meet Adrian’s innocently. Smiling, Adrian handed him the other chunk of pear and watched the boy eat it. Though his stomach was full, Adrian felt as though his appetite had not been sated. He leered at the way Jongin ran his tongue along his lips to lick up the sugar.

Adrian was not sure what insanity took him over when he unconsciously slid a hand up the boy’s bare thigh. Jongin stilled in his seat for a brief second before he gasped and slapped Adrian’s hand off.

Clearing his throat, Adrian withdrew his stupid hand and chugged down the rest of his beer, keeping his embarrassed eyes to himself.

“I am curious about something else, handsome,” Alyssa said to Adrian once she was done discussing something related to foreign ginger powder with Earl. “I would assume that someone like you would be off to war, serving in the army right now.”

Adrian nearly choked on the salted olive he popped into his mouth. He caught the woman eyeing his sword dubiously, too. He wondered if this was how it was going to be hereafter. Would he always have to hide who he really was? He was not sure that he feared capital punishment. In fact, he felt that it would be the right thing to do, to punish him for the unforgivable betrayal he had done the country and his king. But this was not the right time. This boy had come this far trusting him. Adrian would not have the heart to leave Jongin’s side until he was sure that the boy would be safe without his protection.

Perhaps when it was all said and done, he would return to the capital and surrender himself. He doubted that he could go on forever hiding his true identity.

A war criminal.

Adrian sighed. “I am a simple man,” he told Alyssa. “My father owns a forge. I work it, too. He made me this sword.”

When he set off to war. His father had been worried but very proud.

“And what about this pitiful thing?” she asked, frowning at Jongin, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as he continued to stare at his thigh where Adrian had touched.

Adrian hesitated to answer, but he supposed he owed the woman some truth, for her hospitality if nothing else. “The boy worked at a circus. He recently left it.”

It was not entirely the truth, but it was not a lie either.

“A circus?” said Earl. “Is that where the tiger is from?! That makes some sense now.”

“He is not feral,” Adrian told the man.

“You really have a tiger with you?” asked Alyssa, gasping like a little child. “I have always wanted to see one! I love all sorts of animals. If I didn’t take over my father’s inn, I would have happily lived on a farm with a lot of furry friends.”

Adrian smiled at her. “Do you want to see him? He is quite… hungry. If you have some old meat to spare—”

The woman jumped to her feet. “I will get him something fatty to gobble!”

“How is business, by the way?” Earl asked Alyssa, glancing around the empty inn. “It doesn’t seem so… lively around here.”

“Wait until the sun goes down,” she scoffed. “Then you will find all the men in town, married or not, quaffing my ale and groping at my barkeeps.”

Then she sighed sadly.

“But it has been quieter than it used to be. Damn war,” she spat, rubbing her sweaty forehead. “It has taken away most of my customers.”

Adrian side-eyed Jongin, who was now tugging at the hem of his tunic to cover his thighs.

Much later, Alyssa brought Jongin over to a room and promised to find him a pair of pants somewhere. Though the boy had seemed slightly worried when he glanced back at Adrian, who was still seated at the table, guzzling another tankard of dark beer, he did not ask Adrian to tag along.

Once he was gone, Adrian wondered if he had offended the boy by touching him yet again. He hated himself for it. Perhaps Jongin did hold someone else in heart, and Adrian’s touch simply unnerved and disgusted him. If that were the case, then why had he seemed so… comforted when Adrian had held his face for the first time?

Was it all just a ruse? A ploy to get Adrian to help him get out of there? What if he knew that this would all happen? What if he had lied about not being able to read Adrian’s soul?

Groaning, Adrian pushed the tankard away. That was enough beer for one day, he thought, as he realized that the alcohol was starting to mess with his head.

Alyssa was both thrilled and frightened out of her wits when Adrian brought her out to see Baashere. The tiger had not cared much for the woman, but he was thoroughly delighted by the bowl of raw duck meat she was holding. Adrian gave the tiger’s head a pat before he shut the wagon’s door again.

Earl had told him that he would leave before tomorrow’s sunset. Adrian handed him the coins Alyssa had given him for his work today and asked if the man would take him and Jongin as well as the tiger a little farther in his wagon. Though Earl had made a displeased face, he pocketed the coins and agreed.

The inn was beginning to fill up as Alyssa had said when near sundown. Adrian denied a pint of ale when it was offered to him.

“I think we should get some rest while we still can,” he told the wagon driver. Earl stayed behind, however, to drown himself in ale and potatoes.

Meandering through the inn, he eventually sauntered into the room the innkeeper had let him and the boy stay at for the night.

He did not find Jongin there. Then he heard the sound of splashing water from the next room. It had no door. Biting his lower lip, Adrian fought the urge to peep into the washroom and glanced away, distracting himself with the bed.

It was a small but thick pallet spread out on the ground, and its bedclothes were blotched with brown stains. Adrian was no shape to complain about how flimsy the blanket was either. He wanted to collapse on the pallet right away and fall asleep.

He hurriedly unbuckled his sword belt and set the sword aside.

And then he heard the boy step out of the washroom. Turning around, he stared at Jongin’s damp hair that was pushed back. His face was no longer caked with the sand from the desert. He was still clad in his dirty tunic, however, and no pants.

Adrian did not complain about that either.

But he realized that he was letting his eyes wander.

Rubbing the back of his strained neck, he walked toward the washroom. As he strolled past Jongin, he caught traces of scented lye soap in the air he breathed. He clenched his fists and quickly hurried into the washroom, tearing the shirt from his body before he could do something even stupider, like nuzzling into a crook of Jongin’s neck and inhaling the faint scent of his skin.

When he looked over his own shoulder, he found the boy staring at him. Jongin was barely blinking as he gawked at Adrian’s unclothed back, his hands curled around his tunic tightly.

Adrian turned around then and started undoing the laces of his trousers, his eyes fixated on Jongin, who was now staring at Adrian’s fingers that were tugging at the laces, his lips parted as though he were struggling to breathe.

Then sucking in a sharp breath, the boy hurried away to the pallet.

Smiling to himself, Adrian stripped down to nothing before he stepped into the wooden tub of cold water and washed off the grit and sand from his hair and body.

* * *

# C H A P T E R S I X

Jongin had no idea why his hands were shaking. No, his entire body was shaking. He hugged himself tightly when he sat himself down on the pallet. It was thicker and bouncier than the one he had back at the circus. But it was just as small.

He could not stop thinking about the scars he had just seen on Adrian’s back. They were gnarly, gruesome and terrifying compared to the faint ones Jongin bore on his legs. Actually, those bruises were nothing compared to the scars on Adrian, which could only have been manufactured by something as sharp and deadly as blades.

He glanced at the sword that was resting against the wall and shuddered. Soldiers truly lived hanging by a thread. It was both a noble and dreadful thing to fight in someone else’s wars.

He had not known the man for very long, but his heart hurt like it was being stabbed when he thought of something terrible happening to Adrian. Jongin had never cared for anyone the way he cared for this man, who walked into his life one evening and changed everything.

As he sat there in the room, staring at the dancing candleflame, he thought about the fact that there were only two souls, which he knew, that he could not read.

His and Adrian’s.

Why was that the case?

Part of him wanted to believe that everyone had a piece of their soul missing. It was only found with the soul of the one they loved. But it was a childish fantasy, nothing more, he supposed.

Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he rested his head on his knees. Earlier, when Adrian had touched him, he had reacted strongly. Not because he did not like the touch. He had. More than he could ever admit. There was something in those rough, big fingers’ strokes that made Jongin’s heart flutter.

But he still had not discovered all of Adrian’s intentions. While he was falling in love with the man, what if Adrian loved another? Jongin did not think that he could ever recover from a heartbreak like that.

He decided to be more careful around Adrian until he was sure.

But what if Adrian… felt the same way about him?

Then it would be okay for them to touch each other, right? When you loved someone, it was natural for you to want to… touch and hold them, right? Why was that the case? Why did he feel the need to feel Adrian’s skin upon his, especially when it made his heart hurt?

Jongin clenched his eyes. He was letting his thoughts run wild. He had never thought of things like this. Not before Adrian. Not before anyone. He was not sure how to deal with those desires that burned his stomach like fire.

When he raised his head again, he saw Adrian stepping out of the washroom in only his trousers with his shirt slung over a shoulder. He had trimmed his beard, Jongin noticed, before his eyes drooped low to leer at the lightly haired chest and the solid muscles of his abdomen. Jongin felt his breath hitch.

He looked away before Adrian could catch him looking again. He wished there was something he could do to stop his blood from filling his cheeks.

Setting the shirt aside, Adrian sat down on the pallet beside Jongin. With his head hung for a moment, he took in a few deep breaths, his shoulders rising and falling steadily. Jongin tried not to stare at the other scars that were painted over the man’s sun-kissed skin.

Then running a hand through his damp hair, Adrian looked up at him and smiled shakily. The smile quickly disappeared, however, replaced by a frown.

“You look…” he began but trailed off, his searching gaze boring into Jongin’s eyes.

Jongin could not look away this time, even though he was so mortified by his own lewd thoughts. Thoughts that had never occurred to him before this night.

“You seem a bit… confused and dazed,” said Adrian, his lips moving slowly. Having to stare at them in order to understand what the man was saying did not make it any easier for Jongin.

What would a kiss feel like?

Jongin had had kisses on the cheeks from his mother and father, but a kiss from a man he loved had to be different, didn’t it?

What would it feel like? Warm? Soft? Would Adrian’s beard prick his face? What wonderful things would a kiss do to Jongin?

He watched Adrian shift his weight on the pallet so that he was now facing him. “I don’t even know,” he started to say. “why I am asking you this. Maybe I have good reasons, but I can’t… tell you what they are. But… do you… like me?”

Adrian wiped his face with a palm as soon as he had asked the question, looking like he wanted to pick the words up and stuff them back into his mouth.

Jongin, on the other hand, had gone still, his heart thundering in his chest like it was about break through his ribs.

“As… just a man,” Adrian added at length, meeting Jongin’s eyes again. “Or… am I overstepping by asking you such an inane question?”

For a moment, Jongin considered the idea of having misread Adrian’s lips. Perhaps he had not asked what Jongin thought he had.

However, the longing, desperation and worry in Adrian’s eyes as they waited for an answer made it clear that Jongin had not misread anything.

_Do you like me?_

_As just a man…_

Jongin felt his throat tighten as though it were being clutched at. When he gave Adrian no response, the man closed his eyes and drew another breath.

“I should not have said anything,” he said, lifting a hand to his jaw before Jongin caught it. His eyes flung open to look at Jongin confusedly as the latter brought the hand to his own face.

Pressing a cheek into Adrian’s palm, Jongin gazed at Adrian lovingly and forlornly, relishing the warmth of the man’s hand against his skin.

Adrian sat still, watching Jongin rub his cheek against the idle hand. Then shutting his eyes momentarily, Jongin nodded his head.

He felt Adrian pull his hand back. Frowning, he opened his eyes to look at the bigger man, pondering if he had done something to offend him again.

As Adrian reclined back on the pallet, huffing out a heavy breath, Jongin sat up on his knees and stared at the small space between Adrian’s shirtless body and the wall.

“Will you… lie here with me?” Adrian then asked, tucking an arm under his head as he moved the pillow aside for Jongin.

Jongin swallowed the lump in his throat before he started to lie down next to Adrian, gently settling his head on the pillow. He then took a minute to muster the man lying beside him. Though Adrian was clearly fatigued, he did not look like he was ready to fall asleep. He had one knee up, the other supine leg lightly brushing against Jongin’s thigh. While he had one of his arms under his head, the other was resting on his abdomen, hand running up and down his chest.

“Is this okay?” he asked at length. “If you are not comfortable, I can sleep on the floor.”

Jongin did not give him a reply as he lowered his eyes, eyelashes hooding them. There was so much that he wanted to ask Adrian, too. He kept his eyes to himself as Adrian shifted his position on the pallet. As he faced Jongin, their bodies moved closer together. Jongin could feel the heat of Adrian’s bare body seep through the filmy fabric of his tunic by the belly.

“Stop me if you don’t like it,” the man then said before he brought a hand to a side of Jongin’s waist. When he cupped it, Jongin clenched his eyes briefly and held his breath. He did not dare move as Adrian slowly slid his hand along the side of Jongin’s waist, drawing the tunic up with it. He stopped once the hip and part of the waist were exposed. Jongin felt the man press his callused hand against the bare, hot skin of his waist next. As Adrian’s fingers tightened around the curve, Jongin gritted his teeth, head bowed, and throat parched.

He had never been touched this way before. It felt so gentle yet demanding, so new yet inviting.

His eyes fluttered open to meet Adrian’s frowning ones.

For a long moment, they just stared into each other’s eyes, trying to search for one another’s soul. And then Adrian said, “Does your heart feel the same ache as mine does when I touch you?”

Jongin raised his hands to Adrian’s chest then, fingernails digging into the taut skin there. As tears welled up in his eyes, he found himself arching his body into Adrian’s for more contact, for more warmth in spite of the heat of the room.

Jongin had never wanted to speak as much as he did in that moment. He wished that he could ask Adrian to kiss him. He wished that he could tell Adrian that he wanted to know what kissing the man would feel like.

Adrian retrieved his hand from Jongin’s waist before he brought it to cup a side of Jongin’s face. “There is so much that I want to say to you,” he then said, eyebrows furrowed, gaze sharp. “But I don’t know how.”

Strange how even when a man who had a voice and the ability to use it failed to conjure the words to express himself. Jongin supposed they were both on the same page.

Adrian slowly slid his fingers into Jongin’s hair at the back of his head. Jongin did not remove his hands from the man’s heaving chest. He liked the way the chest muscles tautened under his fingers. Adrian’s skin was both darker and warmer than Jongin’s own. Lightly drawing a finger along an old scar that resided near the sternum, he wondered how Adrian had gotten it. Was it from the war?

Then splaying his hand over the chest, he felt Adrian’s heartbeat thump against his palm.

“Why do I fear that I’m going to lose you,” Adrian muttered, his head leaning closer to Jongin’s. “Why does… all of this feel so… temporary?”

Jongin’s heart skipped a dreadful beat. He hated Adrian for saying such a thing.

Everything had just begun for them. It would not be fair if it all were too end so soon. It would not be fair, and Jongin did not know if he would even have the strength to fight a sorrow and disappointment so big.

Adrian’s face was close enough now for Jongin’s feel the man’s breath on his cheeks. Both their hearts were pounding madly, making it hard for them to catch their breath.

Then gently stroking Jongin’s hair at the nape of his neck, Adrian breathed, “Jongin…”

His eyes were almost hooded, focused on Jongin’s parted and panting lips now.

“I want to kiss you,” Adrian whispered, his lips less than an inch away from Jongin’s. “Is it okay if I… kissed you?”

It was all that Jongin wanted. A couple of tears rolled down a corner of his eyes as he closed them. He did not know how to kiss. He did not know many things. But Adrian did. He would certainly know how to kiss, too. Jongin hoped that he was not making a fool out of himself. He tried to keep his lips from quivering, but he was unsuccessful. Every time Adrian’s breath would caress them, his lips trembled.

He felt Adrian’s body press closer to his own before he felt the ends of Adrian’s beard lightly scrape his chin.

When their lips finally met in the softest kiss, the room around them simply slipped away. Adrian kissed Jongin’s lower lip tenderly, giving it nothing but a few brushes of his own lips, stealing every breath that made it out of Jongin’s lungs. He held Jongin’s head gently, as though he did not want to cause the boy any sort of discomfort. Jongin stayed still, shocked and alarmed at how fast his heart was beating. He felt the ache Adrian was talking about earlier. He felt more than just the ache. His entire body burned as though it were set ablaze.

Adrian pulled back eventually and frowned at Jongin, who stared back at him with big, glasslike eyes. “Shit,” the man let out and completely withdrew from Jongin. “I’m sorry. I should not have done that.”

He started to sit up but stopped when Jongin caught his arm. Then raising a hand to the man’s face, Jongin held a side of his angular jaw and brushed Adrian’s lips with his thumb.

_I want you_, Jongin thought, gazing into Adrian’s eyes_. _It was all that Jongin could do to let the man know that he had liked the kiss.

One moment, Adrian was doing nothing but breathe laboriously with his jaw set tight and eyes narrowed. And then next, he seized Jongin’s hands and pinned them to the pallet as he straddled the boy under him, mounting him and trapping him beneath his powerful body.

Jongin barely managed to take in a breath before Adrian crushed his lips under his. With his hands bound, Jongin struggled to grab onto something while Adrian kissed him passionately with so much pent-up hunger. He ran his tongue along Jongin’s lips before catching one of them between his teeth and giving it a light suck that made Jongin’s back arch off the pallet. His beard left Jongin’s skin burning while his mouth ardently bruised Jongin’s lips.

He only slowed down when Jongin began to kiss him back. His hands loosened around the boy’s wrists. One of them slowly made its way to Jongin’s thigh. His rough fingers that stroked the thigh had Jongin gasping into Adrian’s mouth.

Breaking the kiss, Adrian took a long look at Jongin’s face and the ruin he had already become from just a few kisses.

“Am I being too rough?” the man asked.

Jongin, jaded and breathless, shook his spinning head.

“I want to touch you… feel you… hold you,” Adrian rasped, lips teasing Jongin’s once again. “I want to know what every inch of your skin tastes like.”

Even though Jongin pushed up to chase after Adrian’s lips for another kiss, the man pulled down and pressed his mouth against Jongin’s neck instead. And it did something even more spectacular to Jongin’s body.

He sucked in a sharp breath, hands gripping the sheet of the pallet as Adrian peppered his jaw and neck with searing kisses. His beard tickled the sensitive skin there a little. Jongin then brought his hands to Adrian’s back and sank his fingernails into the skin there, fighting for breath as Adrian made him bloom inch by inch with his lips.

The kisses on the neck were so confusing. On the one hand, it felt like torture. On the other, Jongin had never felt anything so good.

And then Adrian slid lower.

Without lifting the tunic up, the man kissed all over Jongin’s chest, slithering in between Jongin’s legs. When he latched his lips around one of the nipples, Jongin let out a broken whimper, hands splayed across Adrian’s wide shoulders. What was he doing, Jongin thought helplessly. While it felt fantastic, he was not sure if this was… right.

Adrian wetted the tunic around Jongin’s nipple with his saliva as his tongue swirled around it. Jongin felt himself harden in Adrian’s mouth that sucked him on. Panting fiercely, he slid a hand into Adrian’s hair and clutched at it, unable to do anything else while Adrian did such obscene things to him. His body was clearly loving whatever that the man was doing to it, however. Jongin, embarrassed and teary-eyed, admitted to himself at one point that he did not want Adrian to stop.

If only Adrian was not between his legs, Jongin would have closed them to keep himself from feeling strangely hard and hot down there. While Adrian’s mouth sucked on one nipple, his hand snaked into Jongin’s tunic to touch the other. Jongin pressed the back of his hand to his mouth as he cried quietly, holding onto Adrian’s shoulder with the other hand while Adrian rubbed his nipple between his fingers, thumbing it sensuously until it pebbled and hardened as well.

Everything that was happening to his body all of a sudden made Jongin dizzy and incredibly thirsty. He realized that there was a fine line between pleasure and pain. Or perhaps they went hand in hand in concert. One was hard to achieve without the other in the matters of intimacy like this.

Adrian had opened him to so many new experiences, some of which Jongin had never even thought of attaining.

Holding the back of Adrian’s head with both hands, Jongin made the man look up at him. With just his gaze, he pleaded Adrian to kiss him once more.

Drawing his hand out of Jongin’s tunic, Adrian rose back up and claimed Jongin’s lips again in a gentler, longer kiss. Jongin sighed deeply, relishing the way Adrian’s beard rasped softly against his skin as Adrian pressed warm kisses all over his cheeks, forehead and the spot beneath Jongin’s lower lip. He then dropped his head against Jongin’s shoulder and nuzzled into his neck.

He did not move again after that as he caught his breath and let Jongin catch his.

Jongin wound his arms around Adrian and held onto him, realizing that this was the first time he would be falling asleep, embraced by another man. And the idea of waking up in the same embrace excited and comforted him. He closed his eyes, his skin still tingling everywhere that Adrian had touched it. With the weight of Adrian’s massive body on top of him, he slowly drifted off, feeling Adrian’s steady breaths stroke a side of his neck.

This was enough for now. He would not ask for more. He would not ask for anything else in his life for the time being.

* * *

Adrian roused in the morning to the sound of birds chirping and shouting pedlars out on the street. Lifting his head from the pillow, he groaned and blinked his sleep-leaden eyes before he turned to lie on his back. God, he had not had a good night’s sleep like that in a very long time. And no horns woke him today. He realized that he was no longer at the camp and shot upright, rubbing his eyes on the hilt of his palms.

Then as he glanced around the shoddy room, he recalled everything that had happened last night. He licked his dry lips, remembering the taste of Jongin’s skin. _Fuck_. It was… something else, all right. He had had to rely on every last silver of his strength to hold himself back from tearing the damned tunic from the boy’s body last night and ravage him until he was nothing but tears, sweat and bruises.

He could tell that Jongin did not have a lot of experience kissing. He was pleased with that knowledge. He liked the way Jongin’s nervous lips had trembled upon his when he had kissed them. But then when the boy kissed him back, Adrian had thought that he had died and gone to heaven.

He knew that he had to stop before it could all get out of hand. Not that he understood why it would have been a terrible thing since the boy had admitted to fancying Adrian. But perhaps this was not the right time or place. Adrian wanted it to be special for Jongin. As a man who had seen plenty, Adrian could do it with anyone in any place. But for Jongin, this was a rite of passage. Adrian certainly did not want to take him in this roadside inn that reeked of cheap ale, on this pallet with stained sheets.

He rubbed his temples, huffing heavily. What stupid things had he blurted out last night to the boy… It had been a moment of weakness for Adrian, yes. But he still should not have said any of the things that he had.

Lifting his head again, he looked for the boy in the room. His heart nearly broke when he found Jongin curled up on the cold floor beside the pallet on which Adrian was sitting on. The boy was still asleep, hugging his knees to his chest with the blanket barely covering his bare legs.

“Jongin,” Adrian let out and sighed knowing that Jongin would not be able to hear him.

He then moved away from the pallet to collect the boy into his arms and lifted him from the floor. Jongin stirred a little but did not wake up as Adrian carefully settled him on the pallet. He must have climbed down to the floor once Adrian had fallen asleep to make the larger man some room on the bed.

“Why do you keep hurting yourself to please others?” Adrian said, kneeling on the ground, frowning at the sleeping boy. He gently brushed a lock of hair from Jongin’s face and smiled. “You are so beautiful, you’re killing me.”

Exhaling a heavy breath, he bowed down and brushed a kiss to Jongin’s forehead before he rose to his feet and looked for his shirt. Then pulling it on, he glanced at Jongin once more and wondered if the boy had liked Adrian’s kisses. God, Adrian had never been so insecure about his own sexual prowess before.

Combing his fingers through his hair through neaten it after briefly using the washroom, Adrian made his way out of the room, leaving his sword behind. He had promised Alyssa that he would help her with the drums of ale in the morning.

He found Earl seated at a table, head clasped in both hands as he grouchily stared at the cup before him.

“Had a rough night?” Adrian asked the man, taking a seat across him.

Earl looked up and pinned him with the same scowl. “I overindulged, yes.”

“Booze or babes?” Adrian asked, smirking.

“Booze,” the man spat. “I am a married man.”

“Oh.”

“You better drink up that ginger tonic to help with your head,” said Alyssa as she waddled over to their table. “Did you and the boy sleep good?”

Adrian nodded. “We slept… very good. Thank you for the room.”

“What will you have for breakfast?” she asked, grinning at him. “We have some cornbread from last night. And some yogurt.”

“That sounds great. Thanks.”

Nodding, Alyssa went away again before returning with the food along with a cup of poppyseed tea. “Whenever you’re ready, pop into the back and bring out the ale casks.”

She then wended her way to the one other table that was occupied with customers.

Adrian could not help but sneer at Earl, who was pounding his head against the table. He had gotten roaring drunk many nights, but he had never been in a shape so bad the following morning.

“We are leaving tonight?” asked Adrian.

“If I can drive,” groaned Earl. “I cannot be late for my next delivery.”

“I can drive a wagon,” said Adrian.

Earl’s eyes widened. “You can?”

Adrian nodded, stuffing a slice of stale cornbread into his mouth. “I used to drive my dad’s wagon all the time. It’s the least I could do for you.”

“Perfect.” The man dropped his head back on the table.

A little while later, once Adrian had moved half of the filled drums from the storage room as Alyssa had wanted, the innkeeper approached him with a pile of threadbare clothes.

“I tossed in some meat for your pet cat, by the way. And these are for the boy. They are not new,” she said. “But they should fit the boy fine.”

“You are very kind,” Adrian sighed, excepting the clothes.

“I had a half-brother who was a mute, too,” she muttered, looking forlorn. “He took his life when he was only thirteen because he thought of himself as a burden to everyone and believed that no one wanted to look after him.”

She lowered her eyes, blinking them to drive away the tears.

Adrian swallowed hard. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

Alyssa ran her fingers through her frizzy dark hair. “I know it is none of my business, but are you two… related?”

Adrian shook his head. “We’re strangers. He wanted to… get away, and I am just helping him.”

“That is so nice of you.” She turned to walk away but stopped and faced Adrian again. “If you are ever in Cleaveton again, come by. You have a friend here now.”

Adrian smiled and bowed his head. Cleaveton, so that was where they were right now. He remembered seeing the town on the map the captain had given him. He did not recall it being all that far from the encampment in the desert, though it was situated in the opposite direction of the borders.

Ambling into the room with the clothes, Adrian found Jongin seated on the pallet, awake and scrutinizing something in his hands. It was the badge Adrian had given him. He brought his head up and looked at Adrian bashfully, the tip of his ears and cheeks flushed red.

“Good morning,” Adrian muttered, shutting the door behind him before he walked over to the boy. “Uh… The innkeeper found some clean… cleaner clothes for you.”

Jongin rose from the pallet and took the clothes out of Adrian’s hands. While he started for the washroom to get changed, Adrian plumped on the pallet and gnawed on his bottom lip for a moment, wondering if he should bring last night up. What Jongin did not want him to?

After a while, Jongin stepped out of the washroom, clothed in the baggy shirt and trousers, looking down at the tangled laces of his trousers with frustration. He then glanced to Adrian with a small pout on his lips, asking for Adrian’s help.

Chuckling softly to himself, Adrian pushed himself up and crossed the room before he went down to one knee. “Let me help you with that,” he said, retrieving the laces from the boy’s grip. When he looked up, he found Jongin staring down at him with his jaw slack, lips parted and eyes ballooned.

That was when Adrian realized how obscene this position was. Biting his lip, he quickly tried to disentangle the laces of Jongin’s pants while keeping his eyes from wandering to the piece of skin of Jongin’s belly that was exposed by the slightly raised shirt.

“Stupid… pesky… laces,” Adrian grunted under his breath, jaw clenched as he yanked the laces free at last. He then paused for a moment, ordering his heart to calm down. He was a swordfighter, for god’s sake. Why was he trembling on his knees before the boy he liked?

Now in the daylight and without any beer in his body, it all seemed daunting. Perhaps he was just overthinking it.

Gulping, he raised his gaze once more and looked at Jongin’s blushing face as he slowly began to tie the laces up, one by one, taking his own sweet time.

Meanwhile, the boy was struggling to not to let his embarrassment show. It was cute. Everything about Jongin was cute.

Adrian had never thought of anything as cute. Why would a grown man let himself melt over things like that? But that was exactly what Jongin was doing to him. Melting him.

Once he was done knotting up the last lace, he did not rise back up. Instead, he placed his hands on Jongin’s hips and leaned his forehead against the boy’s stomach.

“I know you can’t hear me,” he murmured, knowing that Jongin would not be able to know what he was saying unless he raised his head. “But you are seriously testing the limits of my self-control.”

Jongin stood paralyzed as Adrian withdrew one of his hands while the other continued to hold the boy in place by the hip. He lifted the oversized shirt Jongin was wearing just enough to reveal the flat planes of his belly.

Adrian was not sure what insanity overcame him in that moment, but he drew in a breath and brushed his nose against the boy’s abdomen before pressing a kiss to the hot skin above his navel.

Jongin grabbed onto Adrian’s shoulders then with a mewling breath. He did not push Adrian away, however, as Adrian brushed another kiss to his stomach. He shivered every time Adrian’s beard would graze his skin. And that was cute, too.

Then releasing the boy, Adrian rose back to his full and smiled at Jongin. “I want to kiss every part of you. Little by little,” he said. “Every day.”

Jongin hung his head, shaking it embarrassedly before he crashed his face into Adrian’s chest, hands fisting around Adrian’s shirt. It was as though he were begging Adrian to stop saying things to make him blush. Adrian’s grin widened.

Taking hold of the boy’s face in his hands, he forced Jongin to look up at him. “You haven’t returned most of the kisses I’ve given you since last night,” he said, smirking.

Jongin’s breathing quickened, his hands tightening around Adrian’s shirt by the chest. He looked down for a moment, as though he were searching for something. Then meeting Adrian’s eyes again, he reached up and pressed a quick, shy kiss to Adrian’s bearded cheek. Then he rubbed their cheeks together as if he wanted to feel the beard scratch his face before he pulled away and started to hurry back into the washroom.

Adrian stopped him by catching his arm. “Don’t run away after getting me all riled up like that,” he said, raising his other hand to hold the boy’s face. “Why is it that you can read everyone’s soul but mine?”

Jongin looked at him like he had no answer. He probably did not. But Adrian liked seeing him all flustered and blushing.

He closed the little distance that was left between them and pinned Jongin to a wall behind him. Trapped, the boy stared at Adrian all wide-eyed and breathless, unable to anticipate Adrian’s next move.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the night I saw you,” Adrian admitted.

Jongin grabbed his shirt and fisted it tightly, his parted lips struggling to draw in breath.

“And last night,” Adrian continued, bowing his head. “you made me the happiest man alive.”

Every part of Jongin’s body was trembling for Adrian.

Adrian smiled again. “I noticed that you… liked it a lot when I kissed you… here.” He leaned down and kissed the boy’s neck.

Shuddering, Jongin gripped Adrian’s shoulders now, his knees shaking under him.

Adrian glanced up at him and ran his tongue through his lips before saying, “And here.”

He was about to dip lower when Jongin frantically grabbed his hair at the back of his head and stopped him.

Then ducking under Adrian’s arm that was blocking him, he ran into the washroom.

Chuckling to himself, Adrian slumped back against the wall and shook his head, feeling like a lovesick idiot.

* * *

After lunch, Adrian decided to take one last nap before they were to get back on the road for the rest of the night.

But as he entered the room, he found Jongin seated on the pallet, lost in some deep thoughts.

He looked over to Adrian. For the first time, his gaze did not falter. He did not blush. He did not look nervous. He looked oddly… determined. It was something Adrian had not seen in him before.

He was about to ask what was going on when the boy lay himself on the pallet, scooting closer to the wall, so that there was enough room for Adrian to lie down.

Clearing his throat, Adrian walked over to the pallet and took his seat on the edge of it before he glanced back at Jongin, who was still staring at him.

“Are you all right?” Adrian asked.

Jongin did not answer as he hid a side of his face into the pillow, still waiting for Adrian to lie down.

Confused by the boy’s strange behaviour, Adrian reclined on the pallet and rested his head on an arm. He glimpsed Jongin dubiously with his brows drawn together.

Was Jongin mad about Adrian’s teasing this morning? Had Adrian gone too far?

Considering the possibility that he might have, Adrian nervously looked away from the boy, biting his own tongue.

He froze when Jongin slid closer to him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, baffled by Jongin’s hand that was suddenly on his thigh.

Jongin sat up and stared at Adrian again, breathing heavily. He looked strangely aroused.

He raised a hand to his own chest as though to name himself and then brought the same hand to Adrian’s abdomen, slipping it under the man’s shirt.

Adrian shot upright, shocked. Jongin immediately withdrew his hand, startled by Adrian’s reaction. Then at length, Adrian slowly said, “Do you… want to touch me, too?”

Jongin turned red once more. He hesitated to answer, but he eventually nodded his head.

Adrian was sure that the boy had never had any experience with this sort of intimacy. He supposed it was only fair that Jongin wanted to feel him as much as he wanted to feel the boy.

With a faint smile, Adrian fell back against the pallet and lightly draped an arm over his forehead, his eyes watching Jongin keenly.

“Go ahead,” he said. He would not deny that seeing Jongin aroused and wanting to touch him aroused him as well. But he also prepared himself to be disappointed in case Jongin backed out in the end.

It was not wrong for them to want to learn about each other’s bodies as they were nothing but strangers before this.

Jongin clenched and unclenched his hand, hesitating to touch Adrian’s muscled abdomen. Swallowing nervously, he hooked his fingers around the hem of Adrian’s shirt and tried to lift it.

Adrian sat up and pulled the shirt off to make it easier for the boy.

Jongin exhaled heavily, leering at Adrian’s shirtless body as the man lay back down.

“Why don’t you come up here?” Adrian suggested, jerking his chin toward his hips.

Jongin nodded shakily and rose to his knees before he carefully moved to kneel on either side of Adrian’s hips, straddling him. He then brought his fingers to his lips to gnaw at his nails, staring at Adrian’s body again.

Adrian almost laughed, but he did not want to make it seem like he was making fun of the boy. So, he bit back on the chuckle and took hold of Jongin’s hands before guiding them to rest on his chest.

“It’s okay,” Adrian whispered. “You can touch me wherever you want.”

He was not sure that Jongin read his lips because he was too fixated on Adrian’s bare body. As he splayed his hands on Adrian’s chest, he licked and bit his lower lip. Then slowly, he drew the hands down Adrian’s torso, feeling every muscle, every scar, every hair along the way. Something told Adrian that Jongin liked what he was feeling.

The boy looked delirious, dazed and drowsy.

“Do you want to keep going?” asked Adrian.

Jongin gave a curt nod of his head.

“Then go on,” Adrian urged him.

Jongin crawled back so that he was now kneeling between Adrian’s thighs, his hands still pressed against Adrian’s lower abdomen.

Adrian quickly undid the laces of his trousers and relaxed on the pallet, drawing in deep and steady breaths. He waited to see if Jongin would do anything without receiving any more orders.

The boy’s breathing was all that Adrian could hear in that moment as he dragged his fingers down and hooked them into the waistband of Adrian’s trousers. He did not look up at Adrian’s eyes again as he lowered them enough to free Adrian’s limp cock.

Jongin licked his lips once more and swallowed, leaning down. Adrian caught the back of the boy’s head then and stroked his hair gently.

“Don’t do it just to please me,” Adrian said.

Jongin shook his head and pressed his lips against the soft flesh. Adrian clenched his teeth and let out a sharp breath, almost hissing.

“Don’t tease me either,” he said, groaning.

Realizing that whatever that he had done had elicited a strong reaction from Adrian, Jongin, encouraged, wrapped a trembling hand around the cock.

“Jongin,” Adrian breathed out, throat and mouth turning dry. Holding the flaccid shaft in a hand, Jongin brushed his lips against the tip of the foreskin. He looked back at Adrian, who was rapidly growing hard in the boy’s hand, for his approval. Adrian ran his fingers through Jongin’s hair, gently guiding him.

Parting his lips, Jongin lightly tongued the slit of Adrian’s cockhead before he looked up again confusedly.

“Yes,” Adrian gasped, nodding. “God, yes, that feels good.”

Jongin gulped and wetted his lips once more before he opened his mouth wider and wrapped it around the head of Adrian’s hardening member.

“Fuck,” Adrian hissed, eyes rolling back. It had been so very long, yes. But the fact that it was Jongin who was doing this for him had Adrian hard and erect in just seconds.

Jongin’s mouth was warm and wet, and oh-so inviting that Adrian could not hold himself back from thrusting up into the boy’s mouth.

Jongin gagged and pulled back, coughing.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian panted, stroking Jongin’s hair again. “But I like that… So good.”

Jongin looked at him bashfully, though with a hint of satisfaction. He sank back in, taking a little more of Adrian into his mouth.

Adrian tried to stay calm, but his breathing was erratic, his body was sweating, his head spun like it was stuck in a whirlpool. The more Jongin sucked the cockhead, the more Adrian edged towards his climax.

He pulled out of Jongin’s mouth, breathlessly rasping, “That’s enough.”

Then with a string of guttural groans, he wrapped his hand around Jongin’s that was fisting his cock and started stroking it. Jongin watched him eagerly while Adrian worked both their hands on his length until he burst out in white, thick ropes of come onto his stomach.

He then dropped his head back against the pallet and gasped for air as he came down from his high.

Once he had caught his breath, he glanced at Jongin, who was sitting on the pallet with a coy smile on his plump lips.

Adrian sat up with him and gently took hold of the boy’s chin. “Was that good?” he asked.

Jongin nodded, flushed red.

Adrian smiled back and brushed a kiss to Jongin’s temple before he rose from the pallet and wandered into the washroom to clean himself up.

When he returned to the bed, they lay down together.

“That felt wonderful,” Adrian said. “Thank you.”

Jongin looked more pleased than he already was. He nodded his head.

“I want to make you feel it, too,” Adrian said, his arm coiling around Jongin’s waist and pulling him close. “I know that you are not ready. And I want to take things slow with you. But when you are ready…”

He did not want Jongin to know the lewd things that ran in through his mind sometimes. So, he bowed his head and pressed his face against Jongin’s neck, painting it with soft, small kisses.

“I want to be inside you. I want to hold you, be one with you, feel you in every way I can,” he admitted, breath and beard turning the boy’s skin red and warm. Jongin only moved his hands to Adrian’s back and did nothing more. “I need to taste you, savour every inch of you. And when it is all said and done, I want to have you come in my arms while I come inside you.”

He stayed in that position for a few moments longer before he raised his head again and met Jongin’s puzzled gaze. He smiled and brushed the tip of their noses together. “I could die like this, too,” he said. “I would not complain.”

Jongin gasped and pulled back, frowning at Adrian disapprovingly. Kissing the boy’s forehead, Adrian held him close as they soon welcomed a brief sleep before their journey on the road again.

* * *

As the evening made way for the dark and cold, they loaded the wagon and readied the mare again. Baashere must have been quite bored sitting in the wagon all by himself. He shot up with excitement as soon as the wagon door was opened again and Jongin climbed in. Pouncing on the boy, the beast floundered as it hugged Jongin, sniffing him all over.

“I am not sitting in there with that thing,” said Earl, rubbing his forehead, still nursing a nasty headache.

Though he let Adrian take the reins, he sidled up next to Adrian in the driver’s seat. Waving Alyssa goodbye and thanking her for her generosity once more, Adrian reined the horse toward the roads.

“Where are we going?” he asked Earl.

“Just keep steering toward the eastern road,” said the other man. Adrian constantly kept glancing back into the wagon, and every time he looked Jongin would smile shyly at him.

“So, you’re married, huh,” said Adrian once the town was behind them. “Do you have any kids?”

Earl did not sound all that grumpy when he answered Adrian’s question this time. “I do. Four beautiful children. Although the last one can be a bit of a handful.”

Adrian smiled despite himself. Four children. He had never pictured himself with one let alone four. “Is it not difficult to leave them at home and travel so far?”

“Some men leave their families behind to go to war for years on end,” scoffed Earl. “I only came this far to deliver my goods. I’d back with them by the end of the next week.”

Adrian was careful not to drive over the rocks. “You must be a great father.”

“I’d like to think so. I do my best for their happiness.” He stopped for a moment to pin Adrian with an arched brow. “What was this boy doing at a circus?”

Adrian looked away from the man. “He… worked there.”

“Is he a performer?”

“No,” Adrian lied.

Earl snorted, rolling his eyes. “Someone should tell you that you are a very bad liar.”

Adrian glanced back at Earl with glowering eyes. “What?”

“I know that you came from the military camp. And the boy is from the village. I stopped there briefly for refreshments and noticed the circus, too.”

Adrian’s throat tightened. “Look. Earl, you can’t—”

“I don’t know what the full story here is, but don’t worry,” said the man with a reassuring smile. “I am not going to rat you out.”

Adrian was silent for a moment, blood pulsing in his ears. “The boy was… miserable there. I just wanted to get him out of there.”

“So, you’re going back to the army once you’re done doing that?”

Adrian hesitated to answer. “I think that would be the right thing to do.”

Earl sighed. “Doesn’t he have a home? Perhaps it is along the way. I would not mind taking a small detour if it’s close.”

“He doesn’t know where his home is,” said Adrian.

Earl blinked.

“I think he must have left home when he was really young,” Adrian muttered.

“How long have _you_ known him?”

“Less than two weeks,” sighed Adrian.

“And you are doing all this… for someone you met less than two weeks ago?” Earl whistled in awe. “You must be loose in the head.”

“Perhaps,” Adrian murmured and did not say anything more.

* * *

# C H A P T E R S E V E N

By nightfall, they were still on the roads, surrounded by nothing but forests, no sign of civilization. But they were moving at a snail’s pace after all. Adrian doubted that they would see another town or village before dawn.

Earl had fallen asleep sitting up beside him. When he looked back into the wagon, he found Jongin and Baashere asleep too after they had gobbled up the meat pasties Alyssa had given them. Adrian squinted at the oil lamp hanging by the wagon and yawned tiredly.

His head perked up all of a sudden when he was alerted by the racket that broke the silence of the night. Alarmed, he glanced back to see if something was following the wagon. There was nothing. Then he checked both wheels to make sure that they were intact. They were.

It sounded like… voices.

Then with narrowed eyes, he gazed ahead down the road. In the dark of the night, he could only make out shadows of three horses mounted by their riders. They were blocking the road.

Adrian’s blood ran cold as his heart drummed in his throat. He reined the mare to a stop when he realized that the riders were heading his way.

“What happened?” asked Earl when he roused abruptly. “Why are we stopping?”

Adrian did not look away from the approaching riders, though one of his hands were already reaching for the hilt of his sword.

“Wait,” Earl gasped, glancing to the riders. “Marauders? Do you think they are marauders?”

Adrian would prefer them to be marauders. But he knew that it was not going to be that easy.

He climbed down from the wagon and stood his ground, knowing that he would not be able to outrun three warhorses and their adept riders.

Reining his horse to a halt, Ryan pinned Adrian with a filthy look before he dismounted the horse. “At least you have the courage to face us, Vanstone,” the man spat, drawing his sword as he approached Adrian.

The other two soldiers dismounted as well and followed suit, drawing their own swords.

“Ryan,” Adrian let out through his grit teeth.

“We have been waiting two days on the road to catch your ass,” spat the man, holding the sword up to Adrian.

“How did you know?” he asked.

“How do you think? You were gone! And your things. The circus runners came up to the camp and complained that you had kidnapped one of their talents after assaulting them. This is the one road you could have taken if you wanted to get out of there. So, we were ordered to go after you. How could you, you sly little bastard? I can’t believe we all fell for your first-class act!”

“I can explain,” said Adrian. But before he could say anything more, Ryan cuffed him, driving his fist into a side of Adrian’s face.

“We have orders,” Ryan then growled. “To bring you back alive or dead. So, what do you prefer, you traitor?!”

Adrian huffed, rubbing the side of his jaw. “I’m not going back, Ryan.”

For a moment, Ryan looked shocked by Adrian’s response. “You have got to be kidding me,” he scoffed. “You are branded a national traitor and a spy! Do you think we will let you go scot-free?”

A spy?

Adrian clenched his burning eyes for a minute, trying to stop his ears from ringing. Then meeting Ryan’s fierce gaze again, he said, “I’m not a spy. And I kidnapped no one.”

“Arrest him,” Ryan said to the other two soldiers.

“Ryan, please, for old times’ sake, trust me,” Adrian pleaded. “I am not… a spy.”

“You know every single one of the army’s secrets and strategies,” said Ryan. “Do you think Gavin is going to just let you walk? He is going to put a sword to your neck as soon as we drag you back there.”

“Please,” Adrian said again. “This boy from the circus—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” said Ryan, prodding the tip of his sword into Adrian’s chest.

That was when Adrian stepped back and drew his own sword. “I can’t let you take me or the boy back, Ryan.”

The soldier scoffed out a chuckle. “I’d love to see how you are going to get away after harming three soldiers who came here upon official orders.”

Adrian did not think that he wanted to hurt any of them. And he knew that committing more crimes would not help his case in the least bit.

With his stomach clenching in dread, he glanced back at Jongin who clambered out of the wagon along with Baashere and gawked at everyone in horror.

“That’s the one from the circus,” Ryan noted, blinking confusedly.

“They were abusing him back at the circus,” said Adrian. “I was trying to help him.”

Ryan’s anger seemed to have doubled at that. “So, you run away with this freak, leaving your duties to your king behind? Are you sure you’re not just a coward, you son of a fucking bitch?”

“Ryan…”

He then turned to the other two soldiers. “Arrest them. Arrest them all.”

“What?!” Earl yapped. “I have nothing to do with this! I’m just a trader!”

“You were aiding and abetting him,” said Ryan. “Get them all in shackles now!”

Adrian gripped his sword, wanting to fight with every last breath he had. But he knew better than to make it harder for the soldiers who were only carrying out orders.

There was no way for him to escape this.

Baashere growled menacingly when one of the soldiers started toward Jongin.

Crouching down, Jongin put his arms around the tiger briefly and nuzzled into its fur before he pulled back and gazed sadly into Baashere’s eyes. Then patting on the tiger’s back, Jongin ushered the beast toward the forest on a side of the road.

Baashere looked back at him confusedly for a moment and stayed put. Jongin then pushed him away, urging him to go, nearly breaking into tears. Though the tiger was reluctant and hesitant, and kept glancing back at Jongin with a hurt, sorrowful look, it eventually sprung into the trees and disappeared into the darkness.

It was for the better. The soldiers would have hurt Baashere the first chance they got if he had stayed.

When Jongin’s eyes met Adrian’s, they were sheening with tears and fear.

“It’s going to be all right,” Adrian mouthed to him without making a sound. He lied.

It was a lie. It was not going to be all right.

With a sob choking his throat, he sheathed his sword and let himself be shackled.

Jongin did not fight either as the soldier locked a pair of shackles around his wrists.

“I know the baron!” yipped Earl as he was also arrested.

“We need to get them back to the camp forthwith,” said Ryan as he forced Jongin to mount one of the horses. When the boy resisted, he harshly grabbed the back of Jongin’s neck and gripped it until the boy squirmed.

“Stop!” Adrian roared at him. “If you hurt him again, I will tear your arms off, Lawson.”

Ryan fixed Adrian with a grimace and forcefully shoved Jongin toward the horse. “Get on with it.”

Jongin did not fight a second time as he climbed onto the horse.

Earl, on the other hand, fought the entire way until a blade was put to his throat. Then gulping, he fell silent.

* * *

Breathing in the arid air of the desert again made Adrian sick. When they arrived at the encampment, it was noon. They had ridden without rest. Jongin looked like he might fall off the horse any moment now. His face had paled, his bloodshot eyes full of worry. As much as Adrian wanted to offer him some sort of reassurance, he did not know if he had it in his heart to give the boy any more false hopes.

“You made a fool out of all of us,” Ryan said as they dismounted. “I am going to enjoy watching you get punished, traitor.”

“I did not make a fool out of anyone,” said Adrian, briefly distracted by Jongin. He wanted to rush to the boy’s side and hold him. This might be his last chance to do it. But he stayed put. “I was not going to betray the army’s strategies to the enemy.”

“Whatever it is that made you do this stupid thing,” snarled Ryan. “you’re going to pay for it. Possibly with your life.”

“Lieutenant,” said a soldier, walking up to Ryan.

_Lieutenant?_

“The captain is on his way.”

Ryan nodded.

As Adrian was dragged through the camp, he glanced to the other soldiers, who were gaping at him with disgust and anger in their eyes. He even spotted Cory and Tyrel in the crowd, scowling at him as though they wanted to kill him themselves.

When he looked back, he found Jongin trying his best to put on a brave face as he was shoved forward by the soldiers, not wanting to let his fear show. But Adrian saw it in his eyes. How was he going to protect the boy now?

“How could you, Vanstone?” Cory spat in his way when he walked past him.

“Traitor!” someone else screamed from the crowd.

Adrian could not care less about what these men thought of him. All that he could think about right now was… Jongin.

It had been naïve and foolish of Adrian to dream up a future for him and Jongin, wasn’t it? And the worst part of it all was that he knew that Jongin had dreamed up a future of his own after all the promises Adrian had made him.

This could not be the end of their story.

“I am just a trader!” cried Earl as he was yanked through the crowd. “You left my damn mare in the middle of nowhere! She was costly!”

Adrian stopped in his tracks when he saw the captain striding towards him with his hands balled at his sides and jaw clenched.

“Captain,” Adrian rasped. “I—”

“I do not want to hear it, Vanstone,” said the captain with a grave, straight face. He then glanced over Adrian’s shoulder and scowled at Jongin. “Is he the one you kidnapped from the circus?”

Before Adrian could defend himself, Gavin beckoned to a soldier. Warren stepped forward, much to Adrian’s surprise. Unlike the others, he was not scowling or grimacing. He simply looked distressed. When he raised his head and met Adrian’s eyes, he frowned sympathetically.

“Take him back to the village and return him to the man who came here with the complaint,” said the captain.

Adrian pulled away from Ryan’s grip and lunged at the captain. “No!” he exclaimed. “He does not want to go back there!”

“He has signed a contract with the circus,” spat Gavin.

“He is an illiterate. He could not have signed anything.”

The captain ignored him.

Jongin finally broke down in tears as Warren began to drag him away from Adrian. Even though he did not possess the strength to free himself from Warren’s grip, he still tried, trying to get back to Adrian.

Adrian felt his heart break into smithereens. He had to do something, but there was simply nothing in his power for him to do.

“Gavin,” Adrian rasped, looking back to the captain. “Please. I’m ready to accept any punishment you have to give me. Do anything you want with me. But let the boy go. Do not take him back to the circus!”

“Do you really fucking think that I care about what happens in the circus when I have a war to attend?!” squawked Gavin, baring his teeth at Adrian. “I do not want to hear the reasons of a criminal. My lack of judgment is what has brought us here. Throw him in the lockup until I have issued the warrant for his execution.”

Every muscle in Adrian’s body numbed as his ears rang, blood pounding in his temples.

“Execution?” asked Tyrel. “Without a trial?”

“He committed a war crime. It will not be taken to the capital guards,” said the captain. “The authority to sanction penalties for war crimes resides with me. Keep him in the lockup until he has admitted to whatever military secrets he had betrayed to the enemy.”

Adrian stood there, numb and shocked, unable to turn a single hair.

Execution…

He did not fight the men who yanked him away toward the temporary lockup near the captain’s tent. He did not have any more fights left in him.

Jongin…

He never even got to tell the boy that he had fallen in love with him…

* * *

“Are you thirsty, Vanstone?” asked Ryan when he showed up at the lockup later at night with a cup in his hand.

Adrian had gone hours without a single drop of water in this desert. He hoped that the thirst would kill him first before the block.

Crouching before Adrian, Ryan smirked at him through the gaps of the cage. “Look at you. You’re like one of those freaks in the cages at the circus now.”

Adrian exhaled slowly. “You think… bringing me back here would… solidify your position as the second-in-command?”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Don’t put this on me. You’re the traitor here. I was just doing my duties.”

Adrian said nothing more to the man.

“Here,” Ryan then said, raising the cup of water. “If you’re thirsty, try to lick it up.”

Adrian only flinched when the man threw the water in his face before walking away with a spiteful grin.

Wiping the water from his face with the sleeves of his shirt, Adrian slumped back against the rails and closed his eyes.

He was not sure if it were a rivulet of water or a tear that rolled down a side of his eye then. Not even his own impending death terrified him as much as what the Ringmaster might do to Jongin if he returned to the circus.

That was not to say that Adrian did not fear his death at all. Even though he had always been prepared to face his death every time he stepped onto a battlefield, there was something about dying a criminal and a traitor that scared him more.

Had it all been worth it, though?

He had gotten to cherish a few fleeting moments of love with Jongin. Were they enough for him to accept his fate?

Adrian could not bring himself to make peace with the gloomy future that awaited him. Banging his head back against the metal rails, he felt warm tears trickle down his cheeks.

A few hours later, as the night wore on, he was yanked out of the lockup, still shackled, and was brought to the captain’s tent, where Gavin was awaiting him with his arms crossed.

Facing him, Adrian clenched his fists, desperately looking for a way to get out of this mess. Or at least get Jongin out of the trouble he was in.

“For the crime you have committed,” said the captain gruffly, receiving the wooden rod from a soldier. “I should have you executed with no questions asked. But I am curious about why one of my best soldiers would risk it all and not even get that far… after kidnapping someone from a… circus. What were you doing, Vanstone?”

Adrian stared at the rod in Gavin’s hands before he looked up at the man’s eyes. He had to choose words carefully. It did not matter what his fate was, but he could not afford to get Jongin in any more trouble than he already was.

“I was just trying to help the boy,” said Adrian. “He was miserable at the circus. He was being held there, used as an entertainment against his will.”

“So, you thought you would be his hero?” said Gavin, closing the distance between them. “Do you expect me to believe this story of yours?”

“I’m not lying.”

“You are telling me that you ran away from your duties, which you had willingly assumed, to help that boy,” scoffed the captain.

Adrian staggered a step when the man drove the rod against a side of his head. For a moment, Adrian’s vision blurred, and his knees nearly buckled. He next felt some warm, thick blood trickle down a side of his face from his temple.

He steadied himself and took in some breaths to straighten his sight again.

“You were travelling with that trader from the enemy’s country,” Gavin then said. “Is he a spy, too?”

“He is just a trader, who was giving us a ride. He has a family. Please, let him go. You have no proof that he is a spy. I fucked up, I know. And for that, you won’t let me go no matter what I tell you. So, just go ahead and execute me already.”

The captain gritted his teeth, gripping the rod tightly. “As you wish. Set up the block and bring him to it at sunup. Send word to his family. And be sure to specify his crimes.”

With that, he ordered Adrian to be taken back to the lockup.

* * *

In the dead of the night, Adrian saw Earl being sent away. Though the man looked like he might lob some curses at the soldiers, he kept his tongue to himself and hurried away from the camp as fast as he could.

He only stopped momentarily to glance at Adrian. Then with a condoling look, the man walked away.

Adrian gazed up at the sky, looking out for the first light, which would mark the onset of his demise.

Actually, the onset of his demise was marked when he first met Jongin at the circus.

He had both fallen in love and into his undoing in that very moment.

Even so, he only wished that he had had more time with the boy.

Slowly, he shut his eyes, finally ready to accept his fate. Maybe because a part of him believed that he deserved it. A man’s duty was something that kept the man going. Adrian had turned his back to his.

But then again, he took Jongin as his responsibility. And he had failed the boy, too.

Adrian should be executed. It was only right that he was punished for the oaths and promises he had failed to keep.

“Adrian,” he heard a small whisper call his name into the night.

Cracking his eyes open, he confusedly looked at Warren, who was clinging to the rails of the lockup with a very guilty look on his face.

“Shh,” he hushed Adrian, who was about to open his mouth. “Be quiet.”

Adrian curiously watched the boy take a step back and glance around for onlookers before he slipped a hand into the pocket of his pants and pull out a key.

“What are you doing?” Adrian hissed, jolting up to his feet.

Warren hurriedly stuffed the key into the keyhole and worked on unlocking the lockup. “What does it look like? I’m getting you out of here.”

“Are you insane?!” Adrian snapped at the boy. “If you get caught—”

“I will not get caught if we hurry,” said Warren, quietly pulling the lockup door open. Adrian did not move as he stared at Warren in disbelief. “Come on, Adrian. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Adrian shook his head. “I’m not going to let you take this risk.”

Warren reached in and grabbed Adrian’s shirt by the collar before forcefully yanking him out of the lockup.

“Warren!” Adrian chided again under his breath.

The boy looked at him miserably. “I cannot just stand by and watch them execute you.”

“There is no other way.”

“You can run away.”

“They will always find me.”

“Not if you run fast enough and far enough.”

Before Adrian could protest anymore, Warren took hold of his arm and started hauling him away. They kept close to the back of the tents to avoid the soldiers who were keeping the first watch. Warren led the way to the end of the camp, making sure that they were not catching any unwanted attention.

Once they had gotten out of the camp, Adrian pulled his arm out of the boy’s grip and said, “Why are you doing this?” He did not want to scold Warren, but the boy was clearly putting himself in danger by thinking that he could help Adrian.

Warren looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “I care about you. You said that we are like brothers. I can’t watch you die.”

“And do you think I can watch _you_ die?”

“I will be all right,” said Warren. “No one suspects me. Besides… it doesn’t matter anymore.”

He turned away from Adrian and started walking, wiping a tear from his eye.

Adrian looked back at the camp, grinding his teeth as a side of his head pounded mercilessly.

Then hurrying after the boy, he caught Warren’s arm and turned him to face him again. “What are you talking about?”

Warren took hold of Adrian’s wrist and dragged him down the hill. “We must hurry. You have to ride south. Ride for the mountains. They will not follow you there. Go through the woods when you reach them. Don’t take the roads.”

“Ride? I don’t even have a horse.”

“I got you one.”

“You stole a horse?”

Warren did not answer.

Adrian huffed angrily. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

“I don’t care.”

“Warren.”

The boy stopped and stilled for a moment, his shoulders shaking all of a sudden. He did not let go of Adrian’s wrist as he turned to look at him with tears streaming down his cheeks.

“He finally wrote back,” he said in a whisper, his voice breaking. “I received a letter yesterday. From him. I had been waiting for moons for him write me back, return at least one of my twenty letters. And he finally did.”

Adrian breathlessly stared at Warren’s grieving eyes.

“He wrote to me to tell me that… he is getting married,” said Warren, choking on a lump. “I’m… too late.”

He released Adrian’s wrist and fell against the man’s chest, breaking into a sob there. It must have been difficult for the boy as he could not tell anyone or cry to them about his heartbreak.

“He says that he is… very sorry and it pains him… to hurt me like this,” Warren wept. In spite of it all, he was still very young to be going through this kind of heartache. “His father was growing impatient. He had done everything he could to stop the marriage, but he failed. So, he is marrying some girl… and he asked me to forget everything about him… and us.”

Adrian wrapped his arms around the boy’s trembling body. He did not know what he could possibly say to heal Warren’s ailing heart, especially when his own heart was in agony.

“He said that we can never… be together after all.”

Adrian clenched his own teary eyes, knowing that it was the truth. The hard, bitter truth. Warren never would have gotten what he wanted. He could dream and dream, but the truth was that his dream would always be broken.

Pulling back from the embrace, Warren then looked into Adrian’s eyes, face stained with tears. “But you can be together,” he said, whimpering. “You two can be together.”

Adrian blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”

Warren smiled sadly and wiped his cheeks. “I am not an idiot, Adrian. I can read between the lines.”

Adrian’s heart stopped for a moment.

Then taking Adrian’s arm, Warren started dragging him away again.

As they neared the outskirts of the village, there was a horse, bridled and saddled.

Adrian stopped dead when he found someone standing by the horse, gently stroking its mane. For a moment, the world faded around him, and his eyes were only for Jongin.

Seeing the boy again was like returning to a pleasant dream after waking up from it.

Panting, Adrian could not help the smile the befell his lips. He did not stall a single second as he ran the rest of the distance. Jongin turned and instantly lit up like a cluster of stars when he saw Adrian.

Running into each other’s arms, they held one another and broke into tears. Adrian kissed Jongin all over his face, lips brushing off the tears that streaked the boy’s cheeks.

“God, I thought that I had lost you,” Adrian huffed, pressing another kiss to Jongin’s forehead. “Jongin… Jongin.”

They remained in each other’s embrace for a long moment, unwilling to separate, worried of being taken away from one another again.

But Adrian eventually withdrew, though he kept a firm hold on Jongin’s hand, and turned to face Warren, who was watching them with tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“I could not thank you enough,” was all that Adrian could say to the boy.

Warren nodded his head. “I want you to be happy, Adrian. So, go. Find your happiness together. I am happy that at least one of us is winning this war.”

Adrian cupped the back of Warren’s neck and pulled the boy in for one last hug.

“I will never forget this,” he said. “I will never forget you.”

Warren smiled at them both before he turned around and started back for the camp with his hands in the pockets of his pants.

Adrian turned to Jongin. “Will he… ever find what he is looking for?” he asked.

Jongin said nothing. He looked away with saddened eyes. And they said plenty.

Adrian decided not to ask any more. A man should never be curious about his future, let alone someone else’s.

All that he could do for Warren now was hope that someone as kind as him would find the love he sought one day. It would never be easy unless Warren was willing to fight for it. No love should be hidden away in the dark.

“Come on,” he told Jongin and turned to the horse. Holding onto the boy’s waist, he helped Jongin climb onto the horse before he mounted it at the front.

Then taking the reins of the horse, he steered it toward the road. They would have to ride hard and fast if they were to get far enough before the soldiers could catch up.

Jongin wound his arms tightly around Adrian’s waist and pressed his face against the man’s back.

* * *

Adrian reined the horse to a stop only when they reached the woods at daybreak. There was no path in the forest, whose ground was ridden with tree roots, fallen trunks and idle logs. They would have to make it on foot.

Once Adrian had dismounted the horse, Jongin brought a hand to Adrian’s shoulder and waited for some help to get down from the steed.

Smiling, Adrian contently took hold of the boy’s waist while Jongin swung his legs to one side before jumping off the horse.

Jongin kept his hands on Adrian’s shoulders while Adrian kept his latched on Jongin’s waist as they stilled for a moment to gaze into each other’s eyes.

Frowning, Jongin then lifted his fingers to stroke a side of Adrian’s head where the blood was caking his skin.

“It was nothing,” Adrian told him before he looked to the saddlebag that held his sword. Warren…

Pulling it out of the saddlebag, Adrian fastened the sword belt around his waist before rummaging through the saddlebags to examine their content.

There were some parcels of food, two filled waterskins, a map and a compass. Fishing out one of the waterskins, he took a mouthful of water before handing it over to Jongin.

While the boy drank, Adrian tied the horse’s reins to a tree branch and sat down on the forest’ ground to lean his strained back against the tree for a moment. Then unfolding the map, he tried to figure out where they were, so that he could decide where to go from here.

The map was pried away from his hands when Jongin knelt down between his legs, pinning him with a needy look.

“What is it?” asked Adrian.

Jongin blushed. He then looked down at his shirt before ripping a piece of its hem. Adrian then watched the boy wet the torn cloth with some water from the waterskin.

He crawled closer between Adrian’s legs next and splayed one hand over Adrian’s chest while the other brought the dampened cloth to the side of his face that had bled.

He tried not to wince while Jongin cleaned the blood, gently wiping it all away. When he came to small cut on Adrian’s temple, he frowned worriedly.

“It’s nothing,” Adrian said again. “Just a scratch.”

He hissed and flinched when Jongin tried to clean the wound. The boy jumped with a start and looked at Adrian apologetically.

“Sorry,” Adrian murmured and let Jongin continue.

Once he was done, he lowered the stained cloth and stared at Adrian, as though he were waiting for something.

Adrian blinked at him. “You… want something?”

With his cheeks crimsoning, the boy shyly nodded his head.

Adrian sat up straighter. “A… kiss?”

Jongin looked away, his breathing going noticeably shallow. Adrian licked his grinning lips and gently cupped Jongin’s chin before coaxing him forward.

He gave Jongin a tender kiss on the lips. “Happy?” he asked, stroking the boy’s jaw with his thumb.

Jongin pulled away and lowered his head at an attempt to hide his smile.

He then gazed into the forest as his smile faltered.

“Are you looking for… Baashere?” Adrian asked when Jongin faced him again.

The boy nodded sadly.

“He will be happy in the forest,” said Adrian. “He would find a home there.”

Jongin sighed.

“And speaking of home, I know that we can’t have one right away. But we will keep looking until we do.” Adrian then spread out the map on the ground and perused it for a moment. “We will have get moving soon. I am certainly… up for an adventure.”

When he pressed a hand to Jongin’s cheek, the boy rubbed his face against Adrian’s palm, almost mewling and purring.

“Why don’t you… point at anywhere on this map, and that’s where we’ll go,” said Adrian.

Jongin looked excited for a second. Even though he could not read the names of the places on the map, he too wanted to go far away from everything they knew. So, he pointed to the small town near some woodlands and mountains at the end of the map.

“Raindale,” said Adrian. “All right. That’s where we will go, I suppose.”

Rolling the map up, he rose to his feet and took Jongin’s hand before pressing a kiss to the back of it.

THE END.


End file.
